My Jubilee Year

"This fiftieth year is sacred—it is a time of freedom and of celebration when everyone will receive back their original property, and slaves will return home to their families. "
—Leviticus 25:10

It is difficult, if not impossible, to turn 49 years old and not think about what comes next. There is an inevitability that is inescapable. For some, it can lead to a total reexamination of their life's purpose. For others it can mean an embracement of all that is offered. For me, it was the realization that Matthew Broderick and Jodie Foster would also be turning 50 in 2012! For some strange reason, I found that comforting. Ferris Bueller and The Freaky Friday girl joining the half century club just help to reaffirm the basic truth that time marches on for all equally, regardless of fame, fortune, or social standing. We may choose to remember Matthew (I feel that I can call him Matthew...1962 birthdays have a special kinship!) "Twisting and Shouting" as Ferris, but reality knows better.

I am having no real identity crisis with the idea of turning 50. (Does that bore you? Perhaps you were holding out for uncomfortable angst or a massive Xanax-laden depression?) My life is in a pretty good place and I really can't complain. (I would publicly list all of my joys and blessings for you, but my grandmother used to say that would be an Ahora-an invitation to the evil eye, so I think that I will just play it safe for Bubby's sake!) But, there did seem to be something missing. It seemed obvious to me that there should be some way to mark this important milestone other than simply partying or revelling in Jodie's and Matthew's fifty years here on planet earth.

And so....I decided to go biblical. As my fiftieth birthday draws ever closer, I will be taking a Shabbatical...to steal a word from a friend. I will be embarking on a seven month leave of absence from my work at Temple "Sings all the Time and Won't Shut Up", and I hope to discover a measure of freedom and celebration just as the book of Leviticus commands. There is a karmic and cosmic twist to all of this as well. Just as I am about the celebrate my golden birthday, I have also recently marked eighteen years of service to my congregation. Chai! To Life! As well, The Husband and I find ourselves in the position of true empty-nesters. (Translation: College is over and they're gone!) After twenty-five consecutive years of hands on parenting, (and the expenses that go with it!) our children are off figuring out their own lives. We have come to a point where there is the joyous liberty of Tabula Rosa...A blank slate.

What should I do with this new found freedom? What would you do with seven uninterrupted months...a true gift of time? Travel? Create? Connect? I do have some thoughts and a few plans, but I am finding that the genuine jubilation accompanying this exercise is that everything is on the table. Yes, there will be travel. (That will be discussed in an upcoming post!) And yes, there will be learning and some form of creativity. But, hopefully there will be some surprises as well. It is precisely these feelings of the unsettled and the unresolved that is making these upcoming months so terribly exciting.

I am not a fan of the term "bucket list". There is an implication of death that makes me terribly uncomfortable. I am not ready to think of death. Frankly....is anybody ever ready to think about death? Rather, I am looking forward to adding to my life's vision. To see the world with a newfound freedom and most importantly of all.....I need to reclaim rest. Shabbat. Rest for my mind, rest for my body, rest for my soul. A Shabbatical. 

The winding down of the year 2012 brings with it the end of my first fifty years. I hope to begin the next fifty with excitement, wonder, courage, health, and hope. It is sacred time. It is celebratory time. It is "me" time.

I would love to hear from you all. What would you do with seven uninterrupted months? Please respond in the comments section.

Shalom Bayit

We Jews will do a lot for Shalom Bayit. Literally translated as "peace in the home", Shalom Bayit is more about maintaining a happy and tranquil family life; not wanting to upset those whom we love with unnecessary aggravation. The Husband might define it as "happy wife, happy life". I, on the other hand, have recently come to fully understand that the authentic manifestation of Shalom Bayit is really all about which way one swings on the pendulum that is the Ohio State/ Michigan football game.

You see, Younger Son's Young Lady is a born and bred, died in the wool, Ohio State Buckeye legacy. I should have realized that this allegiance wasn't run of the mill fandom, when I began to take note of a drastic change in Younger Son's wardrobe. Where NFTY and camp items used to   take up shelf space in his closet, they were fast being replaced by OSU sweatshirts, t-shirts, pendants and scarves. This boy is no fool. Shalom Bayit!! But when he made a nine hour car trip a few years back down south to Columbus for the annual Michigan game, I knew that this wasn't ordinary team fanaticism.

Look, I am a sports person. A Leaf fan who hates Les Canadiens with a passion so strong there is a visceral ache in my belly. The Yankees? They get booed no matter who else is on the field. I mean, I rooted for the Diamondbacks in the series right after 9/11. That's true team hatred. But I have never seen anything like the neurotic, all consuming, complex mania that is Ohio State football. And during Michigan week? Well, suffice it to say that wearing blue this week around The Young Lady is an invitation to excommunication. Shalom Bayit!

In order to fully understand the nuances of this extreme sporting rivalry, I have spent the past few days immersing myself in the culture of one of the longest and perhaps most hateful feuds in all of athletics. Here is a sampling of what I have learned and adopted all in the name of Shalom Bayit!

• The Ohio State/Michigan football game goes back to their inaugural meeting in 1897. It predates the World Series by six years and the formation of the National Football League by over twenty. This isn't just hate. This is your great-grandfather's hate!
• Ohio State isn't merely Ohio State. They are officially known as The Ohio State University. I thought that sounded somewhat pretentious. Of course, I was wrong. There is actually a history as to why this is so, and it has to do with state legislation and renaming the school. The long and the short of it....never insult the Buckeyes by leaving the "The" out of their official school moniker. And pretension? That is something left to that school to the north.
• Which brings me to Woody and Bo. I stupidly thought that Mr. Allen was making a new film starring the Obama's dog, when in fact they were the legendary coaches on both sides who engaged in what is commonly referred to as the "10 Year War"; or as we normal human beings like to call it, "The 70s". Woody Hayes, the slightly insane but beloved coach at OSU, and Bo Schembechler, the equally nuts and paranoid head guy at Michigan, engaged in a battle royal over this decade. One school or the other either won or shared in the Big Ten Championship every single year, and usually both placed in the national rankings. No other game on the schedule mattered. Everything was (and still is) geared toward beating the shit out of the other. When Woody's boys lost one season, he had a rug made with the score emblazoned upon it. Every day his team would stomp on that rug as motivation so that the following season, they would understand the "game" and kick the crap out of the Wolverines. Woody was so immersed in his hatred for Michigan, that he refused to utter the state name, always referring to it as that school or place to the north. There is local legend telling of a road trip through the state when Woody ran out of gas. He famously stated that he would rather push the car on fumes back over the state line rather than fill up in Michigan. Now that's hate!
• I am now a devotee of TBDBITL!!
• Urban Meyer isn't a neighbourhood in Cleveland, but rather the current head coach of the Buckeyes.
• What the f*** is a Buckeye anyway? Well, a Buckeye is a small, shiny, dark brown nut with a light tan patch that comes from the official state tree of Ohio, the buckeye tree. According to Michigan fans "they are hairless nuts", but those are just the jealous rantings of those that are less academically endowed. According to folklore, the Buckeye resembles the eye of a deer and carrying one brings good luck. 

• Scarlett and grey are much more appropriate choices for my colour palette than maize and blue. Apparently, I look really crappy in blue, and yellow is never a good idea, but red seriously sets off my skin tones.
• This is a rivalry that isn't merely about school spirit. This is about hate. Passionate, visceral, "Hatfields vs McCoys"-style hatred. A sampling. 

Q: Why did Michigan change their field from grass to artificial turf?

A: To keep the Michigan cheerleaders from grazing at half time.

or....


One day in an elementary school in Ann Arbor Michigan, a teacher asks her class if the Michigan Wolverines are their favorite football team. The whole class says yes except for Little Jimmy.

The teacher asks, "What's your favorite football team Jimmy?"

Little Jimmy says, "The Ohio State Buckeyes."

The teacher asks, "Well, why is that?"

Little Jimmy says, "Well, my dad is a Buckeye fan, my mom is a Buckeye fan, I guess that makes me a Buckeye fan."

The teacher angered by his reply says, "If your dad was a moron and your mom was an idiot what would that make you?"

Little Jimmy says, "Well, I guess that would make me a Michigan fan."

or...how about this from ESPN


This week my Facebook timeline has been taken over by rabid Ohio State fans. I have seen lunacy in action. Did you know that as of this writing it is 9:41 am and Michigan still sucks? But I have learned my lessons well and even though my degree isn't from THE Ohio State University, I will be rooting hard for the Buckeyes this Saturday afternoon in their quest for an unbeaten season, gold pants, and bragging rights for the next 365 days....all in the name of Shalom Bayit!

Just Another Meatless Monday....Whoa Ooo Whoa...

A friend at my synagogue stopped me a couple of weeks ago and told me that she loved the Meatless Monday posts, but wanted to understand my obsession with cauliflower. She really liked most of my recipe ideas, but she herself absolutely loathed cauliflower and broccoli. I laughed and apologized, but told her that it probably wouldn't end any time soon. The fact is that both vegetables are staples in our house, favourites of both The Husband and myself. They are cruciferous foods that add greatly to the vitamin and antioxidant intake of our vegetarian diet. As well, cauliflower is extraordinarily filling and hearty, and consumption tends to inhibit our dangerous evening snacking habits. Also....and this is important.....we both absolutely HATE eggplant which tends to be a go-to ingredient in far too many veggie entree recipes. (Please don't fill my inbox with "can't miss", "you haven't tried eggplant until you've tried this eggplant", or "even my kids eat eggplant this way" recipes. It is a non-starter!) Cauliflower seems to act as a main course  vegetable for us in a way that eggplant never will.

So, friends here comes another cauliflower recipe for Meatless Monday. Apologies to my friend at synagogue, but I will try to do better for you next week.

Sauteed Cauliflower with Israeli Couscous

Israeli couscous, also known as p'titim, is an Israeli developed toasted pasted shaped like little balls. It is made of hard wheat flour and toasted in the oven. It can also be found in whole-wheat and spelt varieties. It can be purchased at bulk, health food, or gourmet shops if not at the local supermarket. 

1 ½ cups Israeli pearl couscous
1 tblsp olive oil
4 cups cauliflower, florets
1 small shallot, peeled and sliced
sea salt and fresh ground pepper
pinch cinnamon, to taste
¼ cup dried tart cherries, cranberries, or raisins
1 tblsp red wine vinegar (I actually use a pomegranate vinegar because I love the flavour. Use your favourite.)
¼ cup parsely, chopped


1. Cook the couscous according to package directions until just tender. Drain if needed. Set aside.

2. In a large skillet, heat the olive oil. Add the cauliflower and shallots and sauté about 5 minutes or until the florets are slightly browned. Season with salt and pepper and cinnamon. Add the cherries and sauté about 2 minutes. Stir in the cooked couscous and red wine vinegar. Taste and adjust seasoning if needed. Sprinkle with chopped parsley or chives and serve hot.

Enjoy!!

I Guess I'm Not Blogging in a Vacuum

Yesterday I found my worlds colliding. My real life came face to face with my blogging persona.

It all began with a truly innocuous question by Younger Son. He and his Young Lady stopped by the the house early yesterday afternoon to kill a half an hour after their Shabbat teaching commitments at the synagogue were completed. When they arrived, they caught me in the middle of trying to figure out which artist I was about to feature in the Shabbat Music Break for the day's post. Seeing that I was a bit stressed about the whole exercise (not really-but he thought so) he asked in his not at all confrontational manner, (HA!!) 

"Mom, would it really hurt if you didn't post for one day?"

I was thrown. Seriously! For a proverbial loop. Thrown! As I attempted to formulate a response, I stepped back and gave it sober thought. Would it? I mean, really? What am I truly gaining from this blogapalooza? Could I handle a NaBloPoMo that featured 29 posts instead of 30? Or 28? Or 27?

While he stood there awaiting my answer, I mumbled some incoherent bullshit about following through on a promise to myself and how one should always finish what one starts. You know.... typical good mother answers. But, he had triggered some serious doubt within me. Have I merely embarked on a narcissistic exercise, or is there anybody out there who finds my ramblings and tortuous verbal labyrinths remotely interesting? 

Fate is a funny thing, because I found the answer later that afternoon in a hospital room. The Husband and I went to visit a cousin who has been confined due to serious illness for several months. As if her own maladies and subsequent surgery weren't enough to wreak havoc on body and soul, she has been forced to endure weeks of isolation due to contracting one of those dreaded institutional borne antibiotic-resistant staph infections. This week she was moved to a rehab facility and finally felt ready to receive visitors outside of her immediate family. 

We spent some time catching up with the usual questions about her recovery, family, and of course what comes next, when my curiousity took over. I just had to ask....

"How did you combat the chronic boredom that must have accompanied your isolation?"

She told us of going stir crazy, of course. There is only so much reading and so many crossword puzzles anybody can do. But then she showed me her iPad and she told me that she was reading my blog daily. I laughed, thanked her, and responded that she must have been incredibly desperate in her search for things to pass the time, but she was serious. She said that she enjoyed it. By reading it she felt connected to things other than her illness. She told me to keep them coming. She has at least another week inside, which coincidentally will take me almost to the end of this blogfest. I was humbled and touched.

So, at last I have an answer for Younger Son. Yes mein zein*, it would hurt if I didn't finish this exercise. It is so easy to get wrapped up in ourselves that we often forget that our lives touch others, even in the most cursory of ways. I never started blogging with any delusions that anybody other than close family would read. I saw it merely as a way to journal in a more technologically friendly manner. But, something changed along the way. People reached out. We don't always have to agree, but the connections are priceless. 

*mein zein  is Yiddish for "my son"

Shabbat Music Break

I am often ridiculed by my friends for my love of and passion for country music. I, on the other hand, prefer to look at it as part of my eclectic musical tastes. I refuse to close off any genre simply because of a presupposed bias. (That said...me and hip hop....not a great fit!) And anyway.....country music is just a natural extension of my passion for folk, blues, and roots. I discovered Sugarland in their earliest days before they hit it big. I just love the uniqueness of Jennifer Nettles voice and how she can equally sell a ballad with tremendous emotion, or push forward a hard driving, high charged raunch with massive energy. Baby Girl was their first breakthrough hit in 2004 and it came at a time when they were still a trio as opposed to the duo they are today. Please enjoy and Shabbat Shalom!

R.I.P Twinkie

The daily rundown has brought news of an impending death. Today we must all bid farewell to the Hostess Twinkie. This morning, Hostess Brands Inc. made good its threats to liquidate the company in the wake of crippling debt and an unresolvable strike by it second largest union. The loss of over 18,000 jobs is tremendously sad and I feel great sympathy for those who will find themselves on the unemployment line, but I have to ask.....Should we be lamenting the loss of a product that is a nutritional vacuum and is a contributing destructive influence to our mutual health and well-being?

Twinkies list 37 or so ingredients on their package. 37!!! In his book Twinkie Deconstructed Steve Ettlinger plays detective and follows the ingredients found in some of our processed foods. Many are "often more closely linked to rocks and petroleum than any of the four food groups." Without getting into the grisly details, suffice it to say that there is more unnatural (in strictly eating terms) about a Twinkie than is natural. I mean, there must be a reason that the snack cake could survive a fall from a sixth floor window mostly intact, yes?

I get it. Twinkies and their Hostess cousins Cupcakes, HoHos, Devil Dogs, SnoBalls are a part of our collective nostalgia. We recall them in a sentimental haze along with Partridge Family lunch boxes and noontime double dutch competitions. But there are many products that were popular at the time; a time when we simply didn't know any better. Supposedly we do now. Would we feel this sadness if it were a cigarette, asbestos, or lead-based paint company ceasing operations? How many of us truly feel just fine about including a Twinkie in our kid's lunches?

I am not trying to dance on a grave yet cold. I really hope beyond hope that these workers find employment soon. I am simply wondering if perhaps a natural selective process, consumers making wiser and healthier food choices, has contributed to the Twinkies' fall from grace. We may economically and nostalgically lament the loss today, but won't we and our children will be healthier for it tomorrow?

I Stand With Women of the Wall!

I have told this story before, so forgive me if it is known to you. I promise that I have a point in retelling it.

Years ago when I was interviewing and auditioning for my current position as Cantorial Soloist at Temple Sings all the Time and Won't Shut Up, the rabbi at the time asked me what my feelings were about wearing a kippah and tallit. She (yes, she!) knew that I came from a Classical Reform Jewish upbringing where back in the day, outward religious prayer symbols like the kippah and tallit were frowned upon garb even amongst the men of the congregation. Neither my father nor my brother ever wore either, not even at my brother's Bar Mitzvah. I had never given much thought to the question until this particular rabbi asked it of me, even though it was once again becoming accepted practice within the Reform Movement for both men and women to don these ritual objects. She told me at the time that while she understood my discomfort with appropriating both as part of my own davening, she felt it extraordinarily important that I be seen on the bimah wearing them. She wanted the girls in our community to know and understand that they were equal partners in matters of prayer and ritual and what better way to role model that than by showing the two female religious leaders of the congregation appropriately attired for t'fillah. She was so concerned that I might balk at the request that she had it written into my first contract. That first High Holidays, as I set about putting on The Husband's Bar Mitzvah tallit which I had borrowed for the occasion, Younger Son, all of four years old at the time, said with pure innocence, "Look! Mommy is putting on her Cantor's costume!"

In truth, it did feel like a costume. It felt uncomfortable and disingenuous. After the Holy Days, the rabbi sat down with me and once again asked about my feelings on the subject. I told her of my concerns and she in turn made me a promise. She asked me to wear the tallit for a period of time, perhaps six months. If I still felt nothing we would talk again, but she was willing to bet that something will have changed. She spoke of the increased intimacy and enveloping warmth that I would feel wearing the tallit and kippah. She spoke of a more personal connection to prayer and a deeper and more spiritual involvement. And while my skepticism was acute, I gave her the benefit of the doubt. The following year my parents bought me my first tallit to call my own. I now own a half a dozen  and I cannot imagine not wearing one.

Last evening, our latest crop of B'nai Mitzvah students (our seventh grade class) began their annual Tallit workshop. Over the course of the next few weeks, these young people will learn of the significance of the tallit, understand the importance of the tzitzit (fringes) and knots, and create their very own special and extremely personally designed prayer shawl. Boys and girls. Many of these kids will wear these very creations at their upcoming Bar/Bat Mitzvah. The girls never even think twice that they shouldn't be included in the ritual. The egalitarian nature of the practice is just understood amongst all.

So, it is with this history in mind that I feel great sadness when I read of the continual monthly struggles of Women of the Wall in Israel. For the past twenty-four years, these brave women (and many men who support them), have been gathering at the Kotel (The Western Wall) on Rosh Chodesh (The new month) for a service of prayer. They have been constantly harassed by ultra-orthodox men and women. They have been spit upon, insulted, projectiles thrown their way, tear-gassed, and detained and arrested by Israeli police all because they have had the gall to pray publicly as women, while also donning the tallit. It seems unbelievable in a country that prides itself on egalitarian practice and equality of the sexes, but control of the Wall falls under the auspices of the orthodox minority and they have invoked a much more fundamentalist observance over the years including; the erection of a mechitzah (partition between men and women), the ceaseless shrinking of the women's section, the enforcement of more modest dress for girls and women at the site (men show up at the Wall in shorts and tank tops, but that doesn't raise ire!), the compelling and enforcement of Kol Isha (the prohibition of men hearing women's voices), a ban on women reading from a Torah, and of course the ban on women wearing tallit. And even though the Wall IS NOT an orthodox synagogue, but rather a heritage and religious location significant to all Jews no matter their denominational practice, the Israeli Supreme Court has sided with the administrators of the site in this battle. So the Women of the Wall turn their tallitot into scarves slung across their throats, and they content themselves with a short monthly service at the Wall before moving away to Robinson's Arch to read Torah and pray as they deem fit, away from those who might take offence. But, still it isn't enough. Over the past few months the police involvement and harassment has been stepped up and these brave women have found themselves targeted. Last month on October 16, 2012, Anat Hoffman, director of the group, was arrested, strip searched, cuffed, shackled, and forced to lay on a bare jail cell floor. Her crime? She recited the Shema, the watchword of our faith, out loud at the Wall. She was interrogated and held without legal counsel, but never charged. In her own words....

What is the purpose of arresting a woman, interrogating her, collecting video footage of her every move, questioning witnesses and spending hours writing reports, if at the end charges are never made? I believe the purpose of this harassment and treatment is to wear down the leaders of our women's prayer group, to exhaust us into giving up our struggle for this rights.
If Women of the Wall are truly in breach of the law -- charge them. If they are not, stop arresting them, with release pending a 30- or 60-day ban on visiting the wall area or 5,000 NIS bail.

She continues....

It is time to demand that the state of Israel act like a Jewish and democratic state. Ultra-Orthodox rabbis may be offended by the Women of the Wall practices. That is their legitimate right but it becomes dangerous and frightening when the secular Knesset, the secular courts and the secular police bow down to the ultra-Orthodox fears and demands, while imposing them in the public sphere.

Today five more women were detained at the Rosh Chodesh service and one other arrested. And so it continues. You'd think that with the escalation of hostilities this week, this nonsense would take a backseat. Sadly, no.

I took on the mitzvah of wearing a tallit with great thought, study, and care. Over these past nineteen years I have stood proudly on the bimah and witnessed countless young women follow my lead. My rabbi was right all those years ago. She told me that I would personalize it; find a comfort in it that would lead me towards a more intimate model of prayer. I cannot and will not allow anybody to take from me that which I have fought so hard to embrace. That is why I stand with the Women of the Wall in their struggle for religious freedom and independence.

A prayer for Women of the Wall composed by Rahel Sharon Jaskow....


"May it be Your will, our God and God of our mothers and fathers, to bless this prayer group and all who pray within it: them, their families and all that is theirs, together with all the women and girls of your people Israel. Strengthen us and direct our hearts to serve You in truth, reverence and love. May our prayer be desirable and acceptable to You like the prayers of our holy mothers, Sarah, Rivka, Rahel and Leah. May our song ascend to Your Glorious Throne in holiness and purity, like the songs of Miriam the Prophet, Devorah the Judge, and Hannah in Shilo, and may it be pleasing to you as a sweet savor and fine incense.

And for our sisters, all the women and girls of your people Israel: let us merit to see their joy and hear their voices raised before You in song and praise. May no woman or girl be silenced ever again among Your people Israel or in all the world. God of justice, let us merit to see justice and salvation soon, for the sanctification of Your name and the repair of Your world, as it is written: Zion will hear and be glad, and the daughters of Judah rejoice, over Your judgments, O God. And it is written: For Zion’s sake I will not be still and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not be silent, until her righteousness shines forth like a great light and her salvation like a flaming torch.

For Torah shall go forth from Zion and the word of God from Jerusalem. Amen, selah"