Why Josh Can't Be Left Alone

A Welcome Back Farewell

2011-02-06T19:51:00.001-06:00

Looking back, I'm amazed that after posting regularly for 5 years, I managed to drop off the face of the planet in such a hurry. Most Bloggers fade, with the spacing between posts expanding at an exponential fashion until they recognize that, intentional or not, they've hung up their keyboard. But it looks like I disappeared. Only fascinating because I'm very much here.

So for some explanation. In August 2007, I gave notice to my previous employer and joined a friend in the rollercoaster world of self employment. I moved from New Jersey to Washington Heights, New York, closer to my friends and new job. And I started dating the girl who is now my wife.

I don't know why I now chose to pop back and let you know where I've been. But I have read every comment posted along the way, even if my writing skills have gotten dusty. One thing I can assure you is I haven't changed much...

Brain Drain

2007-08-15T19:47:00.000-05:00

Looking back at the many friends I have who've spent a year or so learning in Yeshiva, one of the phenomenon I've noted is that many of the most "successful" ones seem to have done so at the expense of their personalities. I prided myself on retaining my uniqueness even while gaining a new appreciation and committment to a full-dose religious lifestyle. But as with all attempts to write off everyone more extreme than yourself (because of course, I'm "centrist"), I think I overlooked my own flaws in a misguided attempt to pat myself on the back.

Some of the funniest guys in high school, with the craziest stories, are the ones sitting in Kollel today. We joke when we get together that since they've done Teshuva, we can't bring up their stories, no matter how much harder it may make the rest of us crack up. As proud as I was of their turnaround and choice to lead a positive lifestyle, I always felt like they had compromised in their attempt to retain their fervor, by letting their unique personality fall by the wayside as they progressed. Wasn't it a shame that they could no longer entertain the neighborhood youth, and with the entertainment went their influence? A shame that they couldn't find the happy medium, like myself, and had to run off the extreme.

But a conversation I had this week made me realize how much I've changed too, albeit in more subtler ways. The rediculous, often inappropriate side of me? Still intact and thriving. But in molding a lifestyle that fits with my evolved outlook on life, I've denied myself a lot of normal, fun things. I've framed a very rigid model for my life, my goals, and how I spend my time. I'm certain people look at me as an ascetic hermit, who gave up many normal lifecycle activities after spending time in a foreign fanatical seminary, not too unlike my hatted friends.

Do a couple of dirty jokes make me better than the tamed Beis Medrash guy? Should I re-evaluate my extra-Halachic lifestyle restrictions? Or is it time for me to give up my outrageous one-liners? Or perhaps I'm perfect just the way I am...

Warning: Spoiler Ahead

2007-07-30T17:59:00.000-05:00

No, it's not a Potter post. You won't find me lining up at a bookstore to read a mediocre children's book. This post is even worse: back to dating. It's kind of a theme for a young, single, frum guy...

Normally, when you are in the world of Shidduchim, of third-party arranged dating, the process is rather dry (or at least it has been for me). You get a name, ask a few questions, make an awkward phone call, and spend an evening on small talk. Go out again until you find something incompatible, and then repeat the process. The cycle ends when you can't find anything disagreeable with a girl (or, of course, she with you). As subjective as the judging is, it gets handled pretty objectively, as if we were scientifically qualified to analyze a person't true self.

But who'd have thought, there is a little something called emotion that can actually play a part. Now, I never dated somebody outside of a formal setting. No high school sweethearts; no camp romances. So the practical level seemed pretty natural. But then you meet one girl that clicks, and the game changes. As I wrote about before, I went out with a girl for over a month, but it ended up not being the one. I've always known you can "click" with somebody who isn't your Bashert. In fact, that seemed to be the advantage of the Shidduch system - by focusing so much on a goal of marriage, you eliminated the risk of confusing emotional connection with long-term potential. I always figured the Shidduch world shielded you from this complexity, and let you rationally evaluate a relationship fully before you invested emotionally. But I learned that's not the case. It's a good thing, but it definitely reframes the Shidduch world. It definitely opens up a world where you realize you can open yourself to connecting with a person before you've wrung them through all the analytics.

And that is a little bit of a scary thing, because it means it can be tempting to form that short-term fling and drop some of that objectivity. But as great a release as it can be to bond with somebody, the ultimate goal hasn't changed. Balancing the compatibility of two people with the progression of a complex relationship can be even more draining. But adding the emotional component enables a more textured, intense, and, ultimately, a more realistic sampling of a relationship's long-term potential.

I guess even I learn new things...

That was Nice

2007-07-25T17:28:00.000-05:00

Tisha B'Av ended up being more meaningful than expected, despite having to work. I'm not sure if that was because I actually made it through all the Kinnos for a change, or because I showed up in our corporate office wearing only my socks, but I really felt penetrated by the mournful spirit. Maybe it's time for Prozac.

I picked up on two themes from the day's review of Jewish history, both complex questions that, if real, would have a relevant impact on the future of Jewry, as well as mankind. The first was the tendency of the persecuted Jews to passively accept their fate. While certainly not universal, it seems that the records are full of Jews moving along with their conquerors, from Temple times to the previous century. More noteworthy seems to be the fact that within the religious sources, this course of action seems to be the only praiseworthy choice. There are no vindictive heroes in our religious lore, only martyrs who chose death over dehumanification. Can our people's passive prodding through the painful path of persecution be traced to a religiously informed propensity? Or do our religious teachings merely reflect some sort of endowed cultural heritage, a meek, accepting characteristic shared by Isaac and his descendents? More importantly, is accepting our fate the secret to our survival as a minority, or is it the reason for our continued subservience?

The second theme is the tendency of people to return to their animalistic roots during times of immense suffering. Like the tales of the martyrs, our history is also rife with unedurable stories of desperation. The depths that human nature sinks when forced to fight for its most basic needs is frightening. But the reaction to this in the traditional texts is amazingly non-judgemental. And if our spiritual sources are meant to inform us of appropriate behavior, then while we can't determine whether the ideal is to fight for our lives or defend our dignity, we do see that, above all, we are asked not to judge others in situations we can't comprehend.

Driving home from work, I proceeded straight through an intersection after the light turned green, only to be deterred by a continuing line of people turning left in front of me, after their turn signal had expired. Not one to let an opportunity pass, I inched forward as much as possible, so as to make it apparent to the turning cars that their right of way had passed, and to make it increasingly difficult for them to even proceed. As the final turning car just made it past my bumper, the driver of the car behind her calmly told me through his open window the title phrase.

Having made an effort to curb my speech on Tisha B'Av, I gave no indication of my thoughts. But here I have the opportunity to explain why I think my intentional act was the proper decision. Those drivers cutting me off where performing an illegal act, failure to yield. Had I allowed them to pass unheeded, I would have been providing them positive reinforcement for their poor decision. In fact, taking the right of way when it's not yours may get you to your destination faster, but it causes countless others to arrive tardier, as traffic progression is blocked. If that behavior (which I've found very common in the area) is enabled, it only encourages the guilty drivers to repeat their actions, as they learn that their "me-first" attitude gets them to their destination earlier. But that attitude is nary the Jewish one, and I believe the firm, yet reasoned response is. Maintaining the expectation for orderly behavior and a non-vindictive, yet stubborn approach appear to trace through Jewish tradition.

So next time there is construction and a lane is closed, and everyone except you has merged in advance while you speed past on the ending lane, you can wave at me as you fly by, but don't be surprised when I don't let you merge at the end.

First-Come, First-Served

2007-07-15T16:54:00.000-05:00

I generally shy away from blogging about hot-button political issues. I'm not sure why, since I tend to enjoy writing about issues from a new perspective. Oh, right, because I cater to my readers, and generally stick to Jewish issues. Well, maybe it's time I pulled out the stops...

I made a trip to Ellis Island today, and as you might guess (actually, as you should expect) it forced me to think twice about immigration in this country. Basically, as a country of immigrants, I'm ashamed at those periods in our history where Americans have exhibited anti-immigration rhetoric, including now.

It's a complicated issue, and a number of policies in place today make any simple systematic change difficult. For starters, we have a two party system, entrenched in special interests on both sides. Unions or corporations, don't think either one has justice in mind.

Driving into the city, I passed a man hawking cold water bottles in the middle of traffic in the Holland Tunnel approach. Teetering between insanity and entrepreunership, I couldn't help but reflect on the impressive choice of a person who chose to earn a couple of honest dollars over a number of other easier possibilities. Still not a simple case, but just remember, that if somebody hadn't given your ancestor the opportunity to push around a cart of goods, we wouldn't be voicing any opinion on immigration.

But in addition to opportunity, those who came to this country lived with purpose and sacrifice. As our ferry floated past the Statue of Liberty, a sortie of fighter jets flew overhead in formation, and a granfatherly veteran seated behind me rose from his seat in contemplative respect. It became instantly clear to me why the language of immigration has become bitter to so many tongues. Purpose and sacrifice are two ideals that have been fading in our increasingly selfish culture.

Livin' Large

2007-07-08T15:14:00.000-05:00

Nothing like a shabbos in the Five Towns to make a guy reflect on the role of materialism in a frum lifestyle. For the uninitiated, the Five Towns are a group of exclusive (or so they'd like to think) suburbs right under the landing pattern of JFK airport in Long Island, NY. They're also the aspiration and dream of the Brooklyn bourgeoisie looking to "move on up," ultimately hauling their street-tough one-upsmanship with them. With a zipcode more aesthetically pleasing than the 1950's architecture, it's no wonder that too much exposure to the culture out there can make you wonder how much of a frum family's cost of living is the added expenses of living a Torah lifestyle and how much of the budget is the added expenses of living up to your neighbors' lifestyle. Notice how the two don't necessarily correlate, a wider theme than what I really want to focus on here.

The role of costly consumer goods is an ambiguous one in the Jewish tradition. On the one hand, we are not an abstinence driven ascetic movement, but on the other, we are certainly intended to be living on a spiritual plane. How do we enjoy the pleasures of this world, without finding ourselves having drifted far from our religious priorities? Very simple - are we using these luxuries (and they all truly are unnecessary luxuries - wants, not needs) to further our purpose, or to take us away from it? Are we appreciating the Swiss Alps as one of the many stunning vistas reminding us of the many smaller miracles of creation, or we excited about boasting about the trip to our friends?

Curiously, Jewish law requires that a rich man who loses his fortune be supported by charity to a level that restores his lifestyle to its prior high standard. Similarly, a new husband is required to support his bride in a manner consistent with her upbringing. Both scenarios seem to imply a level of need in these luxuries, beyond questioning the reason for their material pursuit. We know that once luxury is acquired it quickly becomes a need. Is life then an endless upward pursuit of greater consumption? Will our children need to struggle even harder to achieve the level we have gained, before they even begin to explore their own world of luxuries? And how does this endless escalation of need ever enable us to restore our spiritual focus on our lives?

I believe that this is another example of halacha working with human nature in allowing everyone to achieve their potential. Halacha recognizes that we cannot legislate peoples' material happiness. While it may appreciate people choosing to reevaluate their needs, it recognizes the hardship that is caused when this change comes about not as the result of a explicit choice, such as through marriage or bankruptcy.

Materialism is something that we can benefit from, when we are in control. If somebody is blessed with money, then it provides them with an abundance of ways to appreciate the beauty of creation. And if somebody is not blessed with money, they also have the opportunity to appreciate the intricacies of the world according to their ability. And that can bring a heightened level of happiness if they can appreciate the finer items available within their means. But when somebody's need for the acquisition of material goods precedes the availability of the funds to acquire them with, then this seems to present a challenge to the individual. Are they going to reorient the energy in their life to gain more money to buy these items? Or are they going to continue pursuing their own passions, and budgeting their income based on spiritual priorities?

There are some beautiful houses in the Five Towns. But they aren't necessarily those with the wrought iron gates.

I guess I'll go it alone

2007-06-28T12:42:00.001-05:00

Circling around the block for the 4th time looking for a parking spot, I notice the low fuel light calling my attention. I've been looking for a spot for 20 minutes for a quick drop-in at a friends engagement party, and things just aren't going my way. After waiting for an 18-wheeler to complete his wide turn down a residential block, I pull forward in time to see the light turn red in front of me. I finally pull around another corner, when I recognize a faint smell wafting down the block. Rustic and natural on one hand, but completely urban on the other. It takes a moment to place it - it was definitely horse manure. And that is where I caught a car withdrawing from its parking spot. I had finally found a resting spot for my car outside a stable.

Almost an hour late at this point to the party, I dashed from the car down the three short blocks to the hall. I knew nobody there but the band, and the groom was already flooded with well-wishers. After accidentally taking a swig of seltzer - which was kept in bottles identical to the uncarbonated spring water, I retreated back to a post by the band. Clearing a plate of hor d'eurves, I finally pushed my way to the groom, gave him a hug and wished him mazel tov and good night. I was already a minute late to evening services, so I took the opportunity to bolt. I open the door, and am greeted by a torrential downpour. In my haste to finally arrive at the simcha, I had left my umbrella in the car, despite an overcast day. It was coming down too hard to make a break for it, especially since the "break" would have been for 7 blocks. I paced a few minutes, picturing the services beginning without me, as I impatiently awaited a lull in the rain. Finally a chance came, and I bolted in my suit, off towards the synagogue. I made great time, and felt as if I was drifting between the raindrops. A block away and only 4 minutes late, I was still relatively dry. But two stores before I was to pass under a scaffolding that would carry me to the shul's front steps, the heavens opened, and my jacket soaked through. I ran the last hundred feet, too late to turn back as I faced an open sky in all directions.

I finally ran down the stairs, nearly sliding into the wall in my haste to descend the spiral steps. I made my way in only 6 minutes late - to see no minyan taking place. It was summer hours, and they had prayed forty minutes prior. I was safe under the steepled roof, but had now completed a 7 block journey that took me the opposite direction from my car, and had a musty jacket and no Maariv to show for my efforts.

Despite being halfway home, I knew there was another service about 15 minutes away in the opposite direction in 20 minutes. I could make it if all went well. I don't know why I thought that was possible for me. Already soaked, I resigned myself to a full encounter with the downpour, not waiting for any let up. There was no walking between drops on the open streets of the route I took, though, and soon my pants were soaked through as well.

I finally relented and flattened myself against a building wall, hoping the eaves 10 floors up would have some mercy. Emboldened by the seeming protection I was receiving and the ticking clock, I was motivated to hop across the street, where the close protection of a scaffolding beckoned. Gd saw his chance, and loosened the rest of the heavenly faucet as I crossed the street. Finally making it to the covered scaffolding, I noticed that my refuge was actually a direct conduit for the wind to blow the rain through, and between the blowing wet and the leaky tin roof, I was receiving no respite. So without hesitation I made the final push to my car. With my head down to avoid the rain falling into my eyes and to pick out any obstacles, I crossed the last intersection, as I felt the wet sensation around my ankle of my foot descending into some secret puddle buried amongst the squares of the sidewalk. I reached my car, pulled off my sopping sport coat, and sat down for a breath that was interupted by the rain blowing into my covered car door. I quickly closed up, pulled out, and waited for passing traffic to let me join.

Finally, I started to move, when I noticed my window fogging up. I'm not an enemy of the defogger, but I had no budget in my empty gas tank for any further sharing. With no choice, I hoped that I'd make it the 30 miles until I could fill up next. Turning up the cool air, I looked up to see my windshield begin to clear and the last stoplight before the highway turn red. I'd have to lose another 2 minutes on my dash to actually make a minyan. I pull out at the green, and follow the turn up to the onramp, and find myself greeted by a sea of brake lights. With 10 minutes and 5 miles to go, I'm sitting in bumper to bumper traffic.

Somehow, I manage to make it in 11 minutes, and am only 1 minute tardy as I poll off the highway exit. If I can only find a parking spot, I can actually make the crux of this prayer. This time, though, I only circle once before finding a new opening, and I take my umbrella out with me as I run to the shul only 5 minutes late. I dash inside, and find them half-way through. Following the service, I give up my parking spot and head for home, one hour later and 15 minutes farther from my bed than planned. This was the end of a day where nothing went my way. Driving home alone, I couldn't wait for it all to end.

I couldn't have imagined a better script as a metaphor for how I feel now.

I woke up at 5 AM the next day, and found my tire flat.

Growing Up

2007-06-17T11:18:00.000-05:00

So now I'm a landowner. And rather then maintain an empty box, I've furnished it. OK, with other people's garbage, but it's my treasure. It's got everything a guy could need. Well, not really, unless you don't need toilet paper. But it wasn't easy decorating the place, and not just because I have very limited design sense. Emotionally, it was an exhausting committment, and not just because I hate shopping.

At first, I thought I was just upset about the prospect of spending money. I do have an innate thrifty side, so I originally suspected that I was just unwilling to part with my hard earned cash. But seeing as I had hundreds of dollars in gift certificates from previous birthdays and Chanukah's that I had never spent (I never needed anything), I really didn't have much of an excuse.

But it was a different investment that I realized I was avoiding. Until this point, pretty much everything I've ever bought was purchased with the same mindset - that I should get tons of use out of this item, until it wears out. That is a great investment.

But the new items I was buying for my apartment were different. I only stood to lose on this investment. See, partially based on my own poor taste as well as based on differences between guys and girls, anything I would buy when I'm single would have little chance of surviving through to married life. That would make this quite the disposable investment.

But on the other hand, marriage isn't imminent. Maybe I'll own these items in my bachelor pad for years to come. Maybe I'll even wear them out. Good investment? Maybe I'm more troubled by the thought that I've just made a safe investment in a prolonged bachelorhood.

4 U

2007-05-02T20:02:00.000-05:00

V'ahavta L'Reacha Kamocha. It sounds like first grade, but it really was the prime teaching of the great Rabbi Akiva. All our learning is supposed to orient towards towards treating others equally, on par with our own expectations. It seems so easy. So why does it seem so hard?

My Rebbe, HaRav Meyer Juzint, Z"TZL, used to tell us that in Slabodka, the students used to walk around busy commercial areas, so that when people would bump into them, they could have practice apologizing.

Why does that sound so far off? OK, so maybe in our generation people don't immerse themselves in ice water, accept oathes of poverty, or wander the countryside, but I don't think sensitizing ourselves to others is such an extreme ascetic practice. Sure, some people still learn the classical Mussar weeks, and Artscroll pop is in demand, but how many people walk around looking for ways to go out of their way for somebody else? I'm sure there are some that naturally put a smile on everyone's face, but without being negative, why is it so hard to convey our love for ourself into a love for others?

Failure

2007-04-18T19:35:00.000-05:00

There isn't anything you can't do. That's what I thought. A little renaissance man. Prove to everyone that you can have your cake and swallow it.

I've always wanted to be that ideal - the best of all worlds. To hold a respected job, to be a Talmid Chocham, to lead the community when nobody else can, and to just lend a hand when there is somebody else. It's really not so hard. Yeah, you have to cut out the idleness from your schedule, so that you can prepare for your next call of duty, whether it be laining this weeks parsha or putting together a program for the shul's youth.

But this Yom Tov, I proved myself wrong.

They needed somebody to lain Haftorah, but I don't know the trop. They wanted a shaliach tzibbur for Hallel, but I had no tunes. They wanted a Dvar Torah, but all I could do was stare at a Chumash. I ran a Tisch for my friends, but couldn't hold it together.

I was wrong. I'm not Mr. Saviour. But I don't think it's because it's not possible. It was an even worse realization - Either I just don't have the specific traits and skills necessary to pull it off, or because I'm holding back from demonstrating those talents because I'm afraid of stepping out of my comfort zone.

Either way, it doesn't bode well for your hero.

A New Leaf

2007-03-21T19:19:00.000-05:00

I managed to visit Boro Park and Williamsburg on Purim, and even got a Beracha from the Satmar Rebbe of Williamsburg. It was thrilling, being able to be in a different world on Sunday, and back at work on Monday. Even in Mea Shearim, I was buffered from my "other life" in the world at large. But as amazing as it was, it made me sad to see the state of Chassidus today. I don't understand all of the feuding. Isn't a rebbe just a source of individual inspiration? Can't each choose his own? Can't somebody decide not to be Chassidiche, but still be frum? Isn't it a lifestyle choice, a personal path to perfection? Why isn't the road more fluid between those that choose a more isolated lifestyle close to a particular Rebbe, and those that choose the frum world at large? I suppose it's my naivete at believing in Shivim Panim, multiple approaches, to interpreting a Torah lifestyle. I may think somebody is too liberal or too strict to ensure their own survival, but how does that endanger my choice? Can't I espouse my own opinion and urge others to follow, but accept that others will proceed at their own peril? Can't we accept that history will pave the final course?

I guess the fact that I haven't posted in awhile can be seen as a good thing. I haven't stopped opining, but I haven't been able to keep up with all of the discussions on the blogosphere. I'm buying a coop in Washington Heights, and I've been dating a girl. Seriously. No really, I'm buying a coop. But since I'm dating, I figured I'd let all my friends online give her some advice. You know, because you guys know me best.

Vaad L'Kedushas Shabbos

2007-02-28T19:27:00.000-06:00

With all the mess going on with El Al, I thought I'd take a different track, and pass on a seemingly unrelated chain email joke I received today from mi prima tia. Think about it.

-----------

Two astronauts land on Mars. Their mission: to check whether there is oxygenon the planet."Give me the box of matches" says one. "Either it burns and there is oxygen,or nothing happens."He takes the box, and is ready to strike a match when out of the blue, aMartian appears waving all his arms..."No, no, don't!"The two guys look at each other, worried. Could there be an unknownexplosive gas on Mars? But he takes another match....And now, a crowd of hysterical Martians is coming, all waving their arms:"No, no, don't do that!""It looks serious. What are they afraid of? But - we're here for Science, toknow if man can breathe on Mars".He strikes a match, which flames up, burns down, and..... nothing happens."Why did you want to prevent us from striking a match?"The leader of the Martians says, "Today is Shabbos!"

Parasites

2007-02-13T19:35:00.000-06:00

I'm so liberated. I don't think women are baby machines. I mean, they should all be blessed with the ability to reproduce, but I don't think that in and of itself makes for a full life. I've taken heat for that statement in the past, but for a change, I think I'll explain myself. Now I should probably leave a qualifier that this is just a generalization, and obviously there are exceptions and different individual preferences. But I'm not going to.

Whether raising a family plays a large part or a small part of a person's life, it can't be the entirety of it. Similarly, making a living can't be the sole purpose of a man's existence. (This whole rant is not sexist - it applies vice versa as well.) If all we are doing is reproducing another generation, why? Why should we have kids? Just so that they can have kids too? To what purpose? Isn't our aim to contribute to the world, and raise kids to continue the process of building that better world, even if only in a miniscule way? So there has to be more than just raising kids, whether work, community, academically, etc...

Unfortunately, it seems that so many people try and reinforce the importance of family in the frum world that girls set up blinders to putting energy into other realms. And in my mind, that ends up hurting the true integrity of the Jewish nuclear unit...

Crazy

2007-01-21T18:41:00.000-06:00

It's been a long time. I've been enjoying my RIP status. I've been debating saying farewell, but I still have so many thoughts I'd love to share. I had an awesome time meeting two bloggers today for the first time (surprise), so it made me want to come back a little...

It's really easy to stay perfect when you are perfect. For example, if you're a straight A student, you have a high motivation to keep up that 4.0. Get one C, though, and a couple of B+s don't seem that unreasonable. Never had a cavity? One filling will give you less incentive not to leave a few more up to the care of your dentist. One speeding ticket, and that flawless driving record just becomes another spotty history. It's a lesson for motivation - when we set perfection as our standard, we have to be prepared with a backup plan for a recovery. Whether religiously or in any sphere of life where we struggle to perform to our utmost, we have to find the flow that keeps us at our high tide.

Part of what made me put this together was a Dvar Torah by Rav Shimon Schwab. A Tzaddik is a higher form of perfection than a Chassid (as evidenced by their order of appearance in the blessing of the Shemona Esrai). The Tzaddik is marked by his adherence to the letter of the law, while the Chassid is noted by his performace of deeds above and beyond the law. What bothered me is that this seems in reverse. Isn't the Chassid greater for going above the law? This issue is resolved by the above understanding. The goal is to be able to stay consistently at perfection, like the Tzaddik. While the Chassid's efforts are extraordinarily noteworthy, they stem from his cyclical struggles towards an as-yet-unattained perfection.

Who knows when I'll be back. I'm always around, but not always blogging. It's tough having competing obligations outside of creative writing.

Oy Simchas

2006-12-18T09:49:00.000-06:00

So my whirlwind travelling trip is off to a poor start. I'm in Vienna, and my second wedding is in Jerusalem. But I did pick up some interesting advice at the first wedding. My freshman Rebbe told me, "When are you getting married already? Stop messing around!" Now I know BlogBlond had just paid him to say it, so I'll just assume that it's her I'm really talking to.

I could get married. I could do as Isaac did, and just grab the next girl that shows up. I cretainly have had more than my fair share of opportunities. For one reason or another I just wasn't interested. (OK, I'll admit to the rare occurence that she wasn't interested...)The question would be, however, whether I'm avoiding marriage or whether I just haven't found the right person.

People can be picky about many things, and people can get more picky over time. People are looking for a girl with a certain dress size, a certain amount of money, and who knows the latest pop-culture despite having attended the best Beis Yaakov. But I'm not being that supericial. (Just a little...)

I am complicated, and that complicates the search. If you fit into the puzzle, it's not so hard to find your perfect fit. But I make no effort to fit in, and I think that makes finding my complement that much harder. But I wouldn't have it any other way. That's me.

So I'll keep looking for that girl who is guided first by Yiddishkeit, is always thinking about others, is outgoing and not afraid of people who are different, has a good sense of humor and take on life, and has goals of what she'd like to accomplish with her life (aside from just popping out children). Is that so unreasonable?

Um, and a size two...

I Didn't Do Anything...

2006-12-11T19:42:00.000-06:00

Despite my lack of inspiration to blog lately, there is in fact still activity in my brain. In fact, a lot of it. One of the recurring themes is girls. Go figure.

I hope you've settled down from that shocker, because here comes another. I want to refine my opinion on platonic friendships. I'm not backtracking or saying I was wrong, but my thinking has evolved, and I want to share that with you. Yes that's right. My opinions aren't set in stone.

Specifically, I have in the past seemingly flaunted my opinion that a guy and girl can be friends with each other, in no different way than they are with their same sex friends. I have not changed my view that this is possible. But I do want to say that I think this is the minority, in any community.

So I'm not really backtracking, just flipping to the other side of the coin. Whereas before I found it useful (read: Attention grabbing) to minimize the risks, now I find it overly dramatic to pretend like I was mistaken. Come on, my superior analytic logic couldn't be that flawed...

I've never really bothered to qualify the definition of platonic that I have always used. In my mind, it is easy to be friends with somebody without wanting something more. When that more is an exclusive relationship. But when that more is a purely physical relationship, I think that is harder to separate. When we are with somebody of the opposite sex, on some level, even when we aren't interested in them, there is still some level of curiosity, if you will, in most cases.

And that is where the challenges start. When we are in Yeshiva, living in a controlled dorm forces limits on us that, willingly or not, safeguard us from having to cross any lines unintentionally. But I've been out of that cocoon for a few years now. And I've seen the number it's done on my friends.

One of the biggest debates is whether anybody is Shomer Negia. Notice that the assumption flipped from when we were in Yeshiva. Now I'm not going to dig too much into that debate now, as this post is already getting long. It is my assumption that those people who you know that strive to be more religious in all aspects probably do refrain from physical contact. But those that don't work at their level of religious practice probably aren't. Because frankly, aside from religious commitment, there probably is too much of a draw, and not enough of a reason, not to.

But we are all in that world, those of us who are single after graduating from carefully structured religious institutions. And for those of us not living at home or with another family, there is no intrinsic structure. And so it becomes our own decisions that will relay into whether we stick to the path we were on in Yeshiva, at our religious apex, if you will, or whether we will re-chart our own course.

A lot of this will have to do with the lines we draw. I've hesitated to publicize my line (aside from the fact that I've broken it numerous times, I'm also afraid that I'm shooting myself in the foot), but I've always tried to stay out of single girls' apartments. Anytime. But for me, once you cross that line, you enter into an unchaperoned world where boundaries get tested and there are no referees. That's not to say I would grab the nearest girl at a Shabbos meal. I think we all have some self-control. Probably quite a lot more than we give ourselves credit for. But I believe that there is a certain environment that is conducive to true platonic relationships, such as professional association, where lines are clear, as opposed to hanging out in a girl's apartment, where every decision is so subjective, and not necessarily made with our true goals in mind.

Part of the problem is probably due to a pervasive lack of belief in Gd. Judaism is a rote practice, at best a social club, even within Orthodoxy. If that is all, then an individual will make their own rules behind closed doors. And that is what I see with so many of my friends. We aren't the best judges, when sitting on a couch alone with the opposite sex, of whether a specific relationship is a true platonic relationship or whether curiosity isn't an underlying factor.

I've actually wanted to a do an in depth response to the Shomer Negia blog for a long time. And this wasn't meant to be it. But I don't think the challenges of being Shomer Negia are psychological. They are physical. They are pushing of the normal desires we were created with for good. But we have to realize that with every lifestyle decision we make, we are moving towards Gd or away from him. And if we let ourselves be blinded or fooled by our attitude towards the opposite sex, you can bet which way we'll slide.

Yes, I'm still alive

2006-12-03T14:44:00.000-06:00

I'm in between travelling seasons, with my first Sunday off in over a month. I figured I'd put some thoughts down while I had a moment. A lot's been going on, and I may even be moving. So what has been occupying my mind? A lot of things. A lot of business ideas, as well as views on relationship issues. I've even had some thoughts on personal responsibility. But nothing that made me say, "I need to blog this!"

I guess I'm just thankful that my move has been going so well. I've been getting out for Shabbos, and meeting friends for dinner during the week. I've attended numerous Simchas without having to travel, and I have a great adopted family to tell about my day when I get home.

But am I changing? Am I becoming a New Yorker? Am I still a modest Ben Torah or am I a self-centered fool? It would be stupid to suggest that a person isn't affected by their surroundings. I see how well many of my friends have done since leaving the four walls of the Yeshiva. Is it just a matter of time until I join them, or am I different?

TMI

2006-11-13T19:29:00.000-06:00

What a weekend. Let's just say I haven't gone on this little sleep or this long without a shower since I graduated YU. Which brings me back to the title. A few people have questioned the sanity of me putting so much personal information out in the public domain when it is so easily traceable back to my offline existence.

Yeah, that never bothered me. As riduculous as I often make myself sound in my writing, A) All the opinions I write are my actual thoughts, and B) all the stories, while possibly pathetic, are true. So like 'em or leave 'em, they're me.

But isn't it only a partial picture of who I am? Absolutely, I never said this was a documentary meant to capture my inner essence. While you'll get a flavor for me, you won't be able to put together the whole recipe. I leave out all of the boring stuff, all of the day-to-day parts of my life and even some out of the ordinary stuff that I just don't deem that interesting to the cross-section of my readers.

What if somebody is seriously using my blog to find out who I am? What if a girl I might date comes across it (it's happened more than once) or a possible employer? Well, hopefully, if I'd even remotely be a good fit, they'd A) have a sense of humor, and B) try and figure out the rest of the picture.

I'll let you in on a little secret (take this Anonymous satirical commentator) - I often omit details that would help clear up a situation, knowing that the ambiguity enhances the drama. So without Dan L'Kaf Zechus, you'll never catch on that I'm writing to entertain, not come across as the prince that I obviously am.

For example, this past weekend I saw an hysterical episone of Hogan Knows Best, you know that classic reality sitcom on VH-l using the deep experiential knowledge of the classical thinker Hulk "The Body" Hogan. Now I could've spent three quarters of the post explaining the context of how I came to be watching this fine film. Or I could just get to the point. I'm comfortable with my decisions, and have no qualms telling only the relevant part of the story. I leave the creative understanding of my complex persona(s) up to you...

Which brings me to the actual lesson from the Hulk. If you're ever invited to a party at a non-Jew's house, and he obviously has no background in Jewish custom, don't refuse to eat his food or shake his wife's hand without a gentle explanation and a warm thanks for his efforts to accomodate you. Because not only does it make you and your religion look stupid on national TV, but you don't want to mess with the Body.

And now you can try and figure out what a guy with a beard was doing watching VH-1, 'cause I'm not going to help you...

Vote Jewish

2006-11-07T07:49:00.000-06:00

I suppose a Rebbe could tell you who to vote for. Or you could read the newspaper and see which candidate supports Israel more. But I think either method shortchanges the democratic process.

I've had this argument before, but I don't believe that 300 million people are supposed to vote on their self-interest, and that somehow that will settle out to what is best for the majority. Every citizen is supposed to vote for what is best for the whole, and that diversity of approaches should aggregate to a "best choice," or the lesser of two evils.

So I don't understand how somebody can narrowly vote on "Jewish issues." Can you use Judaism as a moral/ethical basis to form your opinions of organized society? Sure. Can you use your experience as a religious minority to build a more open and tolerant society for all? Of course. You can even use a forceful anti-terror stance as a backbone for a foreign policy in defense of Israel.

But what I can't take are people that just count the dollars going to Israel, to Jewish schools, or back to themselves. The Israel issue is most troublesome, as we are using our citizenship in one country solely as a lever for supporting another country. But if we are too selfish in any one position, then we've simply turned democracy into a feuding state.

So go out and vote, but don't just look for a Jewish name.

Why did my Kippa Fall in the Toilet?

2006-10-31T17:47:00.000-06:00

Coming to NY, food is so easy. No matter where you are in the city, Kosher food is right around the corner. However, with more choices comes ambiguity. There are so many Hechsherim (Kosher Certifying Bodies) that it's hard to tell which are good and which are scams. A friend (and semi-loyal reader) recently called me and asked if I knew if a certain Hechsher was reliable. I'm not sure why she went straight to the out-of-towner. But in light of recent scandals, I could see why she was so cautious. But scandals aside, there are some Hechsherim that even when everything is going according to plan are suspect, because they admittedly allow certain practices that are generally not accepted in the Kosher world.

So I started with the requisite Googling, a complex Halachic tool utilized by the finest scholars to discern all truth. Coming up empty, I proceeded to call the phone number listed on the eateries website. Getting an answering machine, I was leaving a message when somebody picked up the line. Stating my purpose of looking into the Hechsher behind this specific eatery, I was instantly greeted with a half hour lecture on the sad state of Kashrus today, which was due in no small part to the Kosher consumer who blindly follows the Big Business Hechshers while shunning the smaller more careful names in the Kosher world. Could be, I don't know. But I really just wanted to find out who was behind the stamp on the restaurant's wall, not question his credentials. I'll do that behind his back.

But how do we come to conclusions? Obviously a Hechsher is an invention of the industrial age, a method of reassuring distant consumers that a manufacturing process follows all Kosher laws. But do we really know what the differences are behind different labels? Do we really have any more reason to trust the food we eat based on supposed policies in place that we aren't even familiar with?

Just some food for thought...

Panic Button

2006-10-25T22:01:00.000-05:00

OK, so apparently the Jewish blogosphere has gone to sleep. People have stopped posting, people have stopped commenting. I've looked around, and the old timers seem to be moving on, and nobody seems to be stepping up to take their place. So it's getting pretty quiet, which makes me wonder if the whole frumosphere was just a fad. But never fear, I'm not going anywhere. This blog is all about me, and I'm still here.

I went to dinner last week with a (guy) friend. Now, you should all know that my guy friends are all better than average looking, because, hey, it's me we're talking about here, and I'm sure they all want me to bump their status up a few points. So we're at a fairly busy restaurant, when the waiter comes over and hands my friend a folded up piece of paper, signalling that it came from some unspecified "other" table.

Opening it up, my friend finds a girl's name, phone number, and email address. Was this somebody who had noticed a stain on my friends shirt, too shy or nice to interupt our meal to tell him? Perhaps she had lost something of value, and was hoping he could help return it? My friend thought she was hitting on him, but I know that is a myth that only exist in Hollywood. We stared at the note, wondering where it had come from, and curious whether we were still being watched. Yeah, it was kind of spooky, but it made for some great entertainment. The waiter played dumb, and we were left in suspense.

Did I mention my friend has a girlfriend? Yeah, so he really wasn't so interested in solving this mystery. So of course, I volunteered to do the leg work, and walked home with the note in my pocket.

The next morning, I called the number to see what the young maiden was so distressed over. When I said it was the guy from the restaurant, I think she almost dropped the phone. That was silly - if she hadn't expected a call back, why'd she leave her number? After recovering, I explained that I had called her back to find out what I could do for her, since the note had implied some kind of reason to get in touch. Oh, did I mention I didn't let on that it was me, and not my friend, returning the call?

I asked her if the whole effort was really just to discover what delicious looking dish I had ordered, and while she did inquire, I question the sincerity of her motives. Or perhaps I'm bitter because she mentioned that she didn't think "I'd" have a problem with her leaving a note, but wasn't sure about my "friend." Um, excuse me? I told her I was dating somebody, and left it at that. Although, she asked me to keep her number, so maybe she really thought my meal looked tasty.

Now what I found memorable about this story was not that some random girl actually passed a note to a hot guy in a restaurant. What bothered me was the implication that a frum guy (me) would have a problem with that, while it would be cool for a more modern guy. I mean, I would have no problem if any girl decided to pass along her digits in a public place. If I wasn't interested, I might pass up on the spontaneous opportunity, but hey what's there to lose? Afraid that it looks bad for Shidduchim? Is it that bad if a girl gave out her phone number - is it a bad thing that she wants to grab onto an opportunity to go out with a guy that she may have no other way of ever meeting again?

So I say go for it girls - you're more than welcome to hit on me wherever I may be, and I may even return your call.

What a Week!

2006-10-16T21:12:00.000-05:00

Hmm, I don't know what was more fun - winning (read: buying) a new cell phone on Ebay, switching my insurance to save $200 (not Geico), or having my shoe heel fall off on the way to work (staples may seem like a good solution, but they make a lot of clicking noises when you walk on them). Of course, after sleeping outside for a week, everything sounds like a good idea.

If you look closely at the siddur, among a number of other prayers in small print that nobody says is a blessing for those that will fast on the Monday, Thursday and Monday following the festival months of Tishrei and Nissan. While a forgotten fast, these days were instituted as an atonement for the excessive joys which we partake of during the week long holidays of Sukkos and Pesach.

What is it about the Yetzer Hora that emboldens it when we are filled with good times? Is it trying to dampen our good spirits? Or were our "good" times only a sham, corrupted in their selfishness from the outset?

I'm just a regular guy. I try hard, but I have the same weaknesses as everybody else. So how far does a person go in avoiding those tests? Some people don't use the internet, but there is enough shmutz on the streets anyways. Some people walk with their heads down, but they miss the opportunity to greet others with a smile.

When do we accept others as imperfect, and when do we chastise them? When is a person a Tzaddik who struggles, and when is he just another shmendrik? When can a guy grow his beard long and still stumble, and when does he just have to go along with the crowd?

More importantly, I have to get back to my dating list...this really isn't nice of me to keep all these ladies waiting. The Josh Train departs on schedule...

Just in Time

2006-10-11T18:20:00.000-05:00

Some people have a mid-life crises at say 50. Others have one after some traumatic event forces them to reconsider their life choices. I don't get it. What's stopping them from sitting down right now and deciding what path they want to take? Whether it's your job, which shul you go to, what you wear, or where to take your next vacation, why should you wait for something to jolt you out of your stupor? From the times of the Bible, it seems people have been waiting for acts of Gd to teach them lessons. But why wait? If you're unhappy, just take the leap already, and stop see-sawing.

I remember when I started wearing pants in 8th grade (to the exclusion of shorts, not skirts). Nobody required me to, nor did anyone inspire me to. But I knew that it was expected in High School, and therefore I assumed that the same ideal should apply to me immediately. So I just acted. But we know I'm Superman. The question is how do I get the rest of the world to follow their convictions and, in the immortal words of Marco the Lunch guy, "Do the right thing?" Maybe that should be the theme of my next Google Video...

In the meantime, a nice story. I left work late today, and barely had time to get to Mincha. It was raining and traffic was backed up from the office all the way until the shul. I arrived 10 minutes late, and dashed inside. I was greeted by a group of guys dashing outside. They asked if I needed to daven Mincha, because they needed a 10th. Um, good timing. The good news is they waited for me. The bad news is they waited for me - I ask everyone present Mechila for the Tircha, delay. Chasdei Hashem.

And the lesson - don't work late. Unless there's an early Mincha Minyan (which will resume next week, I"YH)!

Ski11z

2006-10-10T20:48:00.000-05:00

The world of finance can, I'll admit, get a little slow. I may not be able to even draw a decent smiley face, but there is still a creative urge buried somewhere in me. Blogging is one of my expressive outlets. I'm also going to be working for West Coast NCSY. (I know, wrong coast...) But a single guy my age needs as many healthy outlets as he can get. And that's where Google Video comes in.

You watch some of these clips that go around, and you're amazed at some of the stupid things people choose to immortalize in front of the rest of the world. And Jewish Shtick is no exception (whether people frum enough not to watch TV should be watching videos online is a whole other issue). So those that know me know that my first reaction was to join the idiot parade!

I'm up to four videos, available here. Do I have any higher goal? Not really. Everything up so far is just really glorified photo albums, of greater interest to the seedy characters they feature than the world at large.

But not anymore. I'm embarking on a bold, visionary project. I'm going to take over the world with a cleverly woven short film that will change the way people think about society. I've got a test audience in NCSY. Google is buying You Tube, creating a global empire of video sharing. My plan is falling into place. Now I just need a little bit of your help, because I don't have the slightest clue what my next video should be about.

Line Up

2006-10-05T07:43:00.000-05:00

Yom Kippur was fine...yadda, yadda, yadda...I'm alive still, right? Well at least it went better than Rosh Hashana - I had five minutes of decent Kavana (and 12 hours of sore feet).

On an unrelated note, why do people make it sound as if there is something wrong with a guy having a "list" of girls to date? Do people come up to me and ask me if I'm interested in dating some girl? Yeah. Can I go out with all of them at the same time? Depends whom you ask. But at some point, there is going to be a bottleneck where even if I'm not currently dating somebody, I have to somehow put the suggestion into a queue. I mean, I guess I could just say I'm not interested, but that would shoot me in the foot if the girl I was seeing didn't work out.

I think people are just upset by their position in line. Like, "You mean, I'm only second in line? ME? I thought we were friends - how come I'm not next!" I have to be so diplomatic explaining that Mr. X spoke to me yesterday, so I had to put him first, or Mr. Y just threatened me with bodily harm, so I moved him ahead in line.

These lines are problematic, because as long as they exist, you feel you can judge each girl that much harsher, because the next girl on the list will probably be better. But from my experience, if your problem with the first girl is that her hair is too thin, the next girl will probably be bald, so you have to learn to focus. Which I've never been good at.

So all I'm saying is, take a number.

Now serving number 33...

Old Skeletons

2006-09-28T21:36:00.000-05:00

Here it is, Yom Kippur eve (almost), and I find myself unrepentant. It's strange - I've had relatively a great year - I had a daily chavrusa, good kavana in davening, and fought my worst Yetzer Hora aggressively with a lot of success. So I should feel accomplished and confident as I approach the day of judgment, no?

So why do I feel so empty? Why did Rosh Hashana davening feel nearly useless? I don't know when the last time was that I felt like merely a spectator in shul. I actually felt like just sitting in shul, ignoring the Tefilos. But sucker me stood the entire time in place anyway. And yes, "fake it 'till you make it" did work to some extent. A mussar shmooze later, and I was slightly restored.

But there is still a lot missing. Will this anti-spiritual beginning bode poorly for the upcoming year? Will I make it through Yom Kippur? Will the growth of this past year be reversed?

When will I be back in Eretz Yisroel?

A Pickle

2006-09-21T19:56:00.000-05:00

I'm in a tough spot. I finally have some time to write, and a list of topics. But it's Erev Rosh Hashanah. I don't feel like it's the right time for a little rant; I'd rather be more introspective. I apologize for withdrawing a bit over the last few months. Hopefully, you forgive me.

As we begin a new year, I'd like to think that I really am facing a new beginning. I'm starting fresh, in a new city. And contrary to my harsh condemnations to date, I really think I might have judged too quickly. (I have a full plate of Yom Tov invitations here!) In that same spirit, I'd like to ask you if there is anything I require forgiveness for. Even better, if you have any suggestions for how I could improve in this coming year, leave those in the comments. I'm curious as to what you think.

I want to wish each and every one of you, both old friends and new, those that I see frequently and those readers I don't even know about, a year filled with the pure sweetness that comes from making the most of our potential, a year of seeing the Answer to our prayers. Next year in Jerusalem. I'll keep blogging from there.

What is Frum?

2006-09-14T17:43:00.000-05:00

People have asked me how I ended up in West Orange. What is a a bearded guy doing in such a modern community...Shouldn't I be in a frummer environment...

Does frum mean homogeneous?

Does frum mean hours of people learning...number of people in davening...signs in Yiddish...black and white on the streets...

Or does frum mean that I am building the best relationship with Gd for me at this time?

Sure, we have a concept of not living in a wicked society, but do we fear that our neighbors that wear t-shirts and have secular newspapers delivered are intrinsically evil? We may think that it isn't the best path for our growth, but isn't their place in the world up to them? Are we only frum if we are surrounded by like minded ideologies? It may be for some, and those that it appeals to should choose it. (Like the Amish - right, BlogBlond?) But do I have to commute from Monsey or Brooklyn to be frum?

Honestly, I'm not a major fan of West Orange...only yesterday (after 5 weeks) did somebody actually come over and introduce themself. But at least here I don't have to pretend to be somebody I'm not.

Free Tickets to the Gun Show

2006-09-09T21:16:00.000-05:00

I like to think I'm a pretty Tznius guy. I don't wear skirts, but that's probably a good thing. I think the concept of recognizing our modest place in the world is prominent to a Jewish lifestyle. I'm the kind of guy who doesn't leave my house without a jacket on. I also feel bad about driving a "flashy" car. OK, so I may not be so modest on this blog, but in general I try and walk humbly before Gd.

So it was with embarassing irony that I got nailed this Shabbos in a moment of laziness. I was staying in an apartment in Washington Heights, but I slept with another friend one floor directly above. After getting ready for bed, I decided that I wanted to grab an extra blanket from my suitcase in the apartment below. I was already in my pajamas, but it was after 1 am, so I figured I wouldn't run into anybody on the way down. Both apartments were right on the staircase, so I figured even if anyone went inot the hall, I could duck back into the apartment before anyone saw me.

But Tznius isn't about being seen by people, but living in front of Gd. So the time of night really had nothing to do with it. But I was lazy. I slid down the stairs, and all was quiet. I slipped into the other apartment, secure in arriving at my halfway point unseen. I closed the door to the apartment, and turned to get my suitcase, only to find myself face-to-face with with two girls and a guy, who were sitting in the living room talking.

They weren't there when I left the apartment half-an-hour ago. But I knew two of the three, and hadn't spoken to them in awhile. So I found myself catching up with old (fully dressed) friends while I tried to look casual in my underdressed atire. I was hardly naked by most standards, but for a guy who always has his belt lined up with his shirt buttons, I certainly felt exposed.

Today's lesson - always remember that there is an Eye watching.

Let Me Introduce You to...

2006-08-29T19:37:00.000-05:00

Hi, my name is Josh. Many of you may remember me from such blogs as "Why Josh Can't be Left Alone." It was this blog where I used to post frequently about my views on Jewish topics - and other rediculous things.

The good news is I am now settled (a bit) in New Jersey. Or at least almost as much as one can be in NJ. I have a bed, a place to park my car most nights, and a 15 minute commute. There are plenty of Minyanim nearby, a couple of restaurants, and I can head to NYC without calling a travel agent. And I got rid of my laptop.

So things have been treating me well, and I've had opportunities to reconeccet with a lot of old friends. But did I mention that I ditched the laptop? So, yeah, I guess my blogging schedule hasn't really been settled out yet. I still read at work, but unless I change my "No Blogging from Work" rule, I guess I'm going to be less frequent.

So more good news (possibly correlated). I may have a life. I've found that there are many things you can do without a laptop (such as speak to live people!). Maybe I'll renew my interest in a personal computer in the future, but somehow, right before Rosh Hashana, I decided to go commando. Not like that, sicko. Computerless. No internet. Like Lakewood. Except that this is a personal decision, and not necessarily something I think everyone needs to do. But I think it'll be good for my religious growth, for now.

And on more good news, I'm a Shadchan! I set up a couple (a girl I dated and a friend of mine) and now they're on Onlysimchas! So crazy, right? Simchas!

Ben-Torah Mobile

2006-08-17T17:50:00.000-05:00

I drive an Acura.

I admit it, but I'm not proud of it. Truthfully, I've only had it for 2 weeks, since I moved to New Jersey, but I miss my Altima.

Now don't get me wrong, I like all of the whistles and bells that came with this car, and I appreciate all of the fine craftsmanship that went into making it. But it just isn't me. I just don't feel like it matches who I am.

I am an adherent of the philosophy that every decision in life, from life altering to minute, has a Torah approach. Even after Halacha is taken into consideration, Judaism must influence how we approach every choice we face. Unlike halacha, there is no one right way, but if we think that Judaism is a way of life, then it has something to say about how we live our lives between prayers. There is no standard, defined way (in most communities, at least), but that isn't to say that we aren't each responsible for assessing what decision will lead us down the path of growth. This applies to where we live, how we act, what we wear, and, yes, even what we drive.

And something rubs me wrong with the Acura. Does Judaism really encourage the one-upmanship of American consumerism? Does a brand name, fast car, or slick interior make us a better person? Could my money be spent better elsewhere and could I drive around in a more low-key and equally qualitative set of wheels?

Sure, I try to drive like I don't own the road and obey driving norms. Sure, I use my car to get to shul, do chessed, and contribute to society. But I could probably do it in a more modest way.

What would Moshe Rabbeinu do?

No, my car is not for sale. But you're more than welcome to pay for my premium fuel.

Give and Get?

2006-08-14T18:05:00.000-05:00

Giving is good. It certainly is a Jewish value that we would all do well to eschew. It is certainly a social value that is simply a good idea. But is there a limit?

Giving can be altruistic, but altruism has its limits. If it didn't, we'd all be communists. So as great as it can be to give for the sake of giving, at some point, realistically, we're going to stop unless we're getting something in return.

So in order to expand giving in the world, should we insist on making every transaction mutually beneficial? For example, I don't mind lending out my car. But there is an inconvenience in doing so. If I get nothing in return, maybe I'll stop lending it out, not because I'm losing so much, but simply because the laziness overcomes the goodness.

And the same is true of all favors. We all have our tipping point between selfless and selfish. We want to do for others, just as we'd want done for ourselves.

And when there is a loss associated with the favor, things can be more delicate. Most of us don't think twice about going over to somebody for a meal. But those meals are expensive. Do we help out? Do we contribute a dish? Do we get the host a gift? A gift is not just a flashy show of gratitude, but also a way of returning the favor. By equalling the balance, we assure that there is enough incentive to keep the flow of goodness moving.

But it's a delicate issue, and one that is hard to broach, if you prefer a generous reputation to a cheap one.

It's like when you are talking to a Shadchan, and you didn't find a girl attractive. You feel really terrible and superficial saying that the girl wasn't pretty enough, so you tiptoe around the issue. I don't want to seem cheap, but there isn't a tactful way of saying that we need to have respect for the financial burden we put on each other. So be a mensch, and pitch in for what you use.

Just because people in NYC treat all property like dirt doesn't mean you can treat other's casually. At least not unless you want to see the favors slow.

******This post is in no way related to anyone or any incident that actually has happened to me. It relates specifically to theoretical ideas and my friends' stories. Nobody who borrowed my car this weekend or any other time should feel that I am criticizing them. It is just a theoretical question of how far I am willing to extend myself for the sake of others. Hopefully it'll continue indefinitely. Because I certainly don't ever want to stop giving.******

...It means inviting guests

2006-08-10T20:56:00.000-05:00

Hospitality has many levels. There's the family that has me and two other permanent non-related residents staying here. And there are the guys having me for Shabbos. But what we don't always realize is how difficult the simple act of being hospitable can be. Aside from the costs and time, it can add a lot of stress, a whole additional head to worry about.

We all appreciate being on the receiving end, but how many of us are ready to give? We're quick to promise to return the favor, but when it comes time, how many of us make the call, reach out and give an invite? Do people feel like they're mooching off of us or bothering us, or do they have to fight off our constant invitations?

Being completely on the receiving end right now, I am acutely aware of how challenging it is to take care of a stranger. But I can also attest to how much of a difference it can make to another person to know somebody is anticpating and fullfilling your needs.

As much as Judaism preaches the importance of looking out for others, is our community as outward to each other as it could be? Do the ghetto walls we build up end up blockading our hearts from each other?

Hospitality means more than hanging out with friends. It means looking for people that you can befriend.

So please, invite me for Shabbos, and I'll return the favor!

Vortex

2006-08-07T18:25:00.000-05:00

It all happened so fast. I threw all my belongings in a car and raced cross country. It didn't hit me until I woke up this morning that I didn't know where I was. I'm not just travelling for the weekend. I won't be coming home to my mom's cooking later this week. I don't know what I'm eating for lunch tomorrow. I don't know what to do at a full-serve gas station. I don't know why everyone keeps honking at me. Is there something I'm missing?

Every thing has gone so smoothly with my move. So why do I suddenly feel a storm brewing around me? There is nothing threatening, no looming challenges. I have a car (two!), know how to drive to work (10 minutes!), and even though the maid service is still up in the air, have a warm home to come home to every day.

But there is still so much unease. So many unknowns that seem just around the corner. And I seem alone. Everyone else continues their lives as they did yesterday, while I start anew. Like a rushing river swirling around a downed tree, a feel pinched in place, frantically grasping for familiar territory to lift myself to safer ground as the water rises ever higher.

I'll be fine. I just need to settle in, see that I can put all the pieces together. Hopefully, in my quest to make the adjustment to my new home easy, I won't forget all the great people that I came to be nearer too, even as I find myself farthest from the people I was closest to.

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

2006-08-06T21:45:00.000-05:00

What's wrong with this picture - Today my parents left for Israel, and I moved to New Jersey.

------------------------

Have I told you all how great Blog Blond and her family and her friends are? They know the true meaning of Shabbos. And it isn't sleeping.

------------------------

Man writes, Gd laughs. I just spent 11 hours with a Meshulach. Don't ask.

------------------------

I'm tired. I have to be at my new office tomorrow.

Where are We?

2006-08-03T19:49:00.000-05:00

So much of Tisha B'Av focuses on tragedy and failure, pain and suffering, sin and betrayal. But when I looked around today, I saw just the opposite. I don't live in the most devout neighborhood. In fact, it is one of those Modern Orthodox nieghborhoods that is usually at the butt of many frum jokes. But I was impressed today. I davened at three different shuls, and all three places were packed and the mood was appropriately somber. It seemed as though a high amount of people had taken the day off, and, more importantly, were putting it to spiritual purposes. Not quite what you'd expect from the "modern" world - not just kvetching about not eating while catching up on some chores.

But my point isn't just to rehash stereotypes. As we read about how far the Jewish people have fallen in history, things seem hopeless. But looking around, I see such a spiritual renassaince that I feel that Gd must be on the verge of accepting our communal repentance.

In fact, this is not just an observation you might make on Tisha B'Av. Many people note our generations' unmatched levels of Torah learning and return to observance. You'd think the Messiah must be just around the corner.

But as you read through the Kinnos of Tisha B'Av, you can't help but be reminded of all of the immorality and infidelity that continues in all types of Jewish communities.

So are we at the lowest rung, and about to force the Messiah out of desperation? Or are we just one rung short of proving our devotion to Gd and earning our redemption? Is part of our generation perfect, held back only by a committed core of evildoers? Or does every one of our hearts spend part of the day on Gd's team, even as the other half plots its own coup?

What is Gd waiting for?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I observed such an inspiring community around me today, I couldn't help but wonder why it is that we can't come together even once during the year in prayer. There are 7 orthodox services in my neighborhood, separated by many things, including geography. But as we mourn the divisions that caused the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem, why not take this opportunity to unite our prayers? For one day a year, could we not put aside our differences, realizing that Gd wants our unified prayers more than He cares about whether they are too fast or too slow?

With so many people already making Tisha B'Av one of the few weekday appearances at synagogue, it is the perfect day to prove that we have overcome the differences that created the mournful day. Just Tisha B'Av night, to hold one service for the entire community. I think the message that every particpant would get would be much stronger than any affiliation with a certain rabbi. The service is all the same, and so is the goal. I'm curious if there are any communities out there that do find opportunities to unite (in regular prayer, not picnics or Tehillim).

Dropping our differences to beseech Gd's mercy - I could think of no greater appeal to turn Gd's tears into the speedy rebuilding of His dwelling place amongst the Jewish people and the entire world in Jerusalem.

Where are You?

2006-08-02T20:07:00.000-05:00

Just a quick thought between my hard-boiled egg and the reading of Lamentations.

Tisha B'Av is the saddest day of the Jewish calendar, and many people aptly use it as a day of reflection to assess where they are spiritually, where the Jewish people are as one group, where the world is as a body. Many will point to current events, and others will explore various communal faults, all as they can be related to the somber tone of the day.

But some will forget that at the heart of everything, today is not about repentance. It is a day of mourning. For all the travesties of history that we recall today, there is really only one that represents the tragedy of Tisha B'Av. On this day, Gd was forced to abandon his House in the world, allowing the Temple in Jerusalem to be burnt for His sake. Today we mourn - the same as if a close relative died - because part of the divine presence left on this day.

As we look for ways to make the day relevant to our lives, let's not forget that at its heart, it is the tear of this spiritual separation that leaves us sitting on the ground of the synagogue floor in prayer.

It is this spiritual rending that we have to yearn to repair. For all of the symptoms, we have to treat the cause.

A Man's Man

2006-07-28T18:01:00.000-05:00

A funny thing happened the other day at Shul. As they do a couple of times a month, a pair of Meshulachim (Schnorrers; wandering charity collectors) made the rounds at my shul. In theory, I support the Agudah's green card program, but in practice I hesitate to give money to any collectors. Aside from the fact that I think that supporting charitable institutions is a more effective and efficient way to serve the needs of the community, I also get full corporate matching of gifts at work to 501(c)3 groups. But that is neither here nor there.

Back to the story. Two guys collecting at my shul. At some point in davening, I glance over at the women's section (you know, just to check the clock), and I notice one of the Meshulachim approaching each of the half dozen women who came for morning prayers. As if the sight of a man in gray beard and long black coat on the wrong side of the dividing partition between the sexes wasn't out of place enough, one of the more liberal women in shul (but whom I respect as very frum and genuine) was yelling at him to get out of the women's section. Trying to "close a deal," the guy was hesitating, but this women can be quite intimidating when she starts swinging her Siddur. He left, even as the women's blood pressure rose.

I couldn't help but smile at the irony. Chassidic guy irks liberal woman by violating boundary between the sexes. Now, I understand that Halacha is on his side, as far as I know. Men need to be separated from women during prayer, and not vice versa. But in our society, the ultra-Orthodox world has adopted numerous stringencies beyond the law, specifically in the realm of separation of the sexes. Most avoid conversation, and all co-ed environments. In my neighborhood, he could get away with just a scowl or two, but in his own neighborhood, he'd be fried!

While it might be nice cross exposure for some of these Meshulachim to interact with Jews around the world of all types of backgrounds, it made me wonder just how unproductive this charity collection system may be. Aside from the probable better use of each collector's time, what kind of environment does it put them in? If they are raising money to be able to live in their bubble (and I'm not criticizing that choice), then are they really better served by spending weeks at a time on their own roving throughout the free world? If a man from a community that has separate kiddushes suddenly feels comfortable interupting the women's section for individual appeals, what affect is this having on his spirituality according to his own Hashkafa? And if he's willing to break such public taboos, what of the more private taboos that he has the opportunity to break from when he's so far from the watchful eyes of his community?

And why are there no female Meshulachot?

Houdini

2006-07-17T22:00:00.000-05:00

No, I haven't "poofed." But between moving, working on a new video, and a revised learning schedule, my free time has eroded. There is a lot going on in my head, but precious little time to put it down on paper. Even less to commit it to blog-infamy. But just to keep you along for the ride, a little bit more of why Josh can't be left alone:

Because if we're sitting around talking to a Chassan, I might randomly ask about his "cute married sister."

Because I might go up to somebody with a LiveStrong wristband, and ask when that Lance Armstrong guy will finally lose his battle with cancer. Sorry about your grandparents.

Because I might leave a car that I borrowed parked with the doors unlocked and the keys in the glove compartment for the weekend.

Sheesh. Nobody's perfect.

Refocusing

2006-07-09T19:53:00.000-05:00

I hate when the Rabbi speaks during davening on Shabbos. I also hate when they say Tehillim during davening. Usually, I avoid both. But this Shabbos, I made the mistake of staying for the Rabbi's speech, and he spoke about saying Tehillim during davening.

My general feeling is that there is no need to add extra Tehillim to our prayers. The three standard prayer services accomplish the same thing as these extraneous supplications, and if we don't have Kavana (devotion) to our required services, what is accomplished by creating more rote recitations? Unless there was some unfolding tragedy, I couldn't see the reason for this seemingly ever more popular practice.

But then my Rabbi made sense of it. It was kind of obvious, once I heard it. The time to turn to Gd isn't during tragedy. It's to turn to Him every day and pray that things should stay as well as they are. It's not to wait until it's too late. I suppose we could have that in mind with all our prayers, but certainly if I can see the value in reciting extra Psalms during tough times, I must admit to the importance of reaching out to Gd and recognizing and appreciating His hand in keeping us shielded from disaster.

And that carried me to today, when I found out that another Rabbi was burying his mother this morning. I haven't been to a funeral in years. In high school, I remember going to daven in Shiva houses every day. It wasn't that I was living amongst any crazy amount of tragedy, but there was an opportunity to do the Mitzva of comforting mourners, and I seized it. After learning the words of Solomon, "It is better to go to a house of mourning than a house of feasting," it became my motto that these Shiva trips were part of my character building, framing my outlook on the seriousness of life.

Back then, my daily mussar was asking how I would be eulogized when my time came. What bothered me this morning is that I now ask myself, will my Chassana be as Leibidik? Even if I may have a Mitzvadik approach to simchas, instead of looking at the mortality of life and realizing the importance of every minute, recently I have only been living for the moment. Thank Gd that so many people around me are celebrating, but at what point did I start to frequent the house of feasting more than the house of mourning?

I had a dream last night, that I saw a girl I hadn't seen in awhile, and we casually hugged. It's not something I've done in real life. But my subconscious revealed to me that I'm not at the point I was in high school, I'm not at the place I want to be at. And that's why today I went to the funeral, instead of all the other things I had planned.

It's about time I put my life back in order, and started to think more about how I will be remembered after 120 than for the next 94.

Missed Flights, Missed Simchas, Missed Opportunities

2006-07-05T19:29:00.000-05:00

I'm a pretty easy going kind of guy. I don't get upset when things don't go as planned. I'm adaptable, and I can put things in perspective. But somehow, I'm just left unsettled by my scorecard from this past weekend. One missed flight, three missed weddings. I can't do it all, and I accept that. So it must be Gd's plan that I made the events I did and missed others.

But why doesn't it sit right? Why am I upset that I wasn't there? I don't miss the Shmorgs, the music, or the dancing. I don't even think it's the opportunity to see my friends. I'm pretty sure it's the fairly pure motivation of bringing Simcha to the Chassan and Kallah. I mean, it's a slight possibility that I just want to meet the bridesmaids (but I am NOT a stalker!), but I really think it's pretty Lishma. I know that while everybody else is gorging their stomaches, I can help keeping the energy level up on the dance floor.

I know, how modest. But it can make a difference - how many weddings have you been at where the Bride's and Groom's enjoyment seemed of lesser import than the guests' own? How many people leave the wedding early to catch up on chores? How many people shy off the dance floor when the song isn't their favorite? But how many people are willing to make a fool of themselves to make a party fly?

So if for whatever reason I don't make it to a wedding, I feel like I missed an opportunity to make a difference.

But I don't think my main concern is that the wedding wouldn't happen without me. I think the bigger issue is that I feel like I'm letting down my friends by being absent on their big day. People take their big day very seriously, and I've noticed that brides and grooms take their attendance list just as seriously. Those that don't make it create what seems to be an unspoken rift in their relationship. Sent back the response card "no?" Don't bother calling again. And I don't want to injure any of my friendships, because I value how important this day is to them.

So when everyone sings "Mazel Tov!" and I'm left far away, I feel like quite the Shlamazel. And that is a big part of why I'm moving. Of course, it looks like I'll have two weddings coming up in Chicago. What a shlamazel!

Two Faced

2006-06-29T21:49:00.000-05:00

The ugly face of hypocrisy appears to have reared itself in the comments on my last post. Not to kill the drama of my last sentence, but no actual hypocrisy- just the subject. Sounds like a great opportunity for me to spout off on yet another tangent in the frum blogosphere!

First - what is not hypocrisy. Many look at bloggers, and feel that they have created a second identity online for themselves. Things they would not sanction in real life, they partake of behind an electronic mask. And for others, they hide their numerous weaknesses behind a mirage of glistening data bits, putting on airs of near perfection online. (See Elster's post for extra reading.)

Seemingly unrelated, people throw around the term hypocrisy when it comes to frum people who sin. Whether it's somebody who wears a Yarmulke and swears, a girl who wears her skirt and goes to the beach, or, yes, even a homosexual. Attaching the appelation "Frum" connotes a certain lifestyle; not conforming to those expectations seems to contradict the "Frum" impression.

But I think both issues, the blogger's mask and the frum charade, are both related. And neither is necessarily hypocritical. Both issues betray the complexity of every human being, that we are pulled by good and evil. Might we want to be somebody online that we can't be in person, for whatever reason? Might we have sins on our hands that keep us from reaching the status of perfect Jew?

The answer, if you're like me, is a little of yes to both. I am not perfect, but I'd like to be. Does that make me a hypocrite? Does my failure to espouse a consistent perfection deny me the right to keep trying? Should I shave my beard until I conquer every last demon? Should you stop going to Shul until you stop speaking Lashon Hora? Obviously, this would be an absurd definition of hypocrisy.

Hypocrisy is voicing a view as universal, while not attempting to adhere to it yourself. It is not hypocritical to tell others to do something that I don't believe is incumbent on myself - this is merely a double standard. Similarly, it is not hypocrital to promote a universal truth but fail to live up to it. In my opinion, we all have weaknesses, but that by no means weakens the message. Might somebody write about the importance of Tzedakah but be considered cheap himself? Absolutely, and with no injustice. As long as he acknowledges that he is bound by the same ideal as all, his attempt at inspiring others to greater involvement is as much a mirror into his own soul as it is into theirs. It is only when one creates a ruckus over an ignored Mitzva, but doesn't acknowledge the need for his own growth in the Mitzva, that hypocrisy is breached.

And this is where blog identities and religious growth intertwine. There are many people out there whose eye's are in the sky even as their feet drag in the dirt. And on the flipside, there are those who float through the clouds, looking for a break to peak down at the exposed below. We all have masks, covering up our total self. This is the same idea as Purim, where we put a mask over our daily face and imbibe enough to let our guard down and let our spiritual selves mark our goals.

Whether we are hypocrites or aspirers to greater heights is not a matter of what we say vs. what we do, but simply a question of whether we are honest with ourselves about where we stand vs. where we want everyone to be. And that is something we can only decide for ourselves.

[Addendum - I couldn't fit this in above, but it was part of the impetus for the post, so I want to make sure I at least note it: In my opinion, the Lakewood style Kollel system is an example of hypocrisy. It states that as a universal truth, the derech for being frummer is exclusively the study of Torah. Somebody who isn't learning full time isn't showing the committment or capability to approach Gd fully. However, the system relies on people who do make money to support it. So it implicitly requires people to be "imperfect" in order to support the "perfect." To tell everyone to strive to learn full time while turning around and looking for a shidduch with a rich, working grandfather is hypocritical.]

Don't Worry, Be Happy

2006-06-26T08:39:00.000-05:00

Ahh, Gay Pride Day! I probably missed a fabulous parade. But what a great excuse to introduce my own views on homosexuality and Judaism! And, no, I'm not coming out of the closet. At least today.

To start off the conversation, it's important to note that in my mind, homosexuality is a real trait, if abnormal, and can't be cured. It's like ADD - for some reason this person was hardwired differently. (That's not to say that all gay people are truly homosexual, but that point isn't relevant to the discussion.) And for some reason, in our generation, these characteristics seem to be in greater force. But while society always moderates the behavior of it's members in a unifying manner, it can never remove the individuality behind each person.

Since homosexuality is an orientation, not necessarily a practice, it is absolutely plausible to be homosexual and 100% frum. And if they adhere to Halacha, I know they will be rewarded beyond what a normal person will receive. Just like I can't go around practicing my heterosexual tendencies outside of marriage, a homosexual is also asked to restrain his desires in aspiring to the Judeo ethos. Like anyone, the choice of self-identifying as a frum person is their own to make, but so too is the choice to deviate from those expectations.

But regardless of what I believe are the choices of an individual, I think there is no excuse for Jewish organizations or individuals to discriminate against gay individuals. If they don't want to be frum, they have that choice. If they want to be frum, and don't practice their tendencies, then they are as frum, if not frummer, than the next guy. And even if they do practice while aspiring to a religious lifestyle, we have no right to judge them ourselves, and certainly it is a double standard to judge them harsher than the numerous other classes of sinners embedded in our community. Sure, it's easier to chastise homosexuals than people who speak Lashon Hora, because we don't have that Yetzer Hora. It makes us feel like better people. But we are all the same, each going through his own struggles in his quest for perfection.

While I don't think being gay is something to be proud of, I don't think it's something to be ashamed of either. It is a fact of life. The sooner the Orthodox Jewish community comes to terms with that, and finds meaningful ways to openly educate on the topic, the stronger the entire community will be. I believe that striving for perfection in Judaism applies to everyone, no exceptions. By alienating some, we show the weakness of all.

Two for Two

2006-06-22T12:14:00.000-05:00

Back from my biweekly New York trip. It proved quite successful. Forget about the two jobs I was offered - I met two bloggers!

Two thoughts -

After driving around NYC in my rental car, I may have a better understanding of why frum people tend to drive like maniacs. It's not just driving, it's the rushing all over the place, whether trying to get ready for Shabbos, or head to Minyan. And it has nothing to do with New York hustle. I think it comes from a good thing. Judaism infuses us with such a sense of purpose, we cannot help but run around. There's so much to accomplish with our lives, so much purpose, how can we casually stroll along?

Despite my optimistic assessment of the roots of this attitude, I do think that this positive trait is overused. That means that too much running through life is a bad thing. No matter how many good things we want to get done in a day, we cannot forget the feelings of those around us. And no matter how important we think our destination is, we don't have a right to cut off other people in line by assuming that their schedule is any less urgent.

Unrelated. As I look for places to live in NY, one thing I realized is that a person is not meant to live alone. Regardless, of our phase in life, we are constantly surrounded by others. We grow up in our parents' home, live in a dorm, and start our own home. But what of the singles that have one more phase? Are roommates enough to occupy the social gap? Living arrangements aren't the same as friendships. Sure, some will have enough to make it work, but there are so many chores needed to run a household that a bunch of singles can have a hard time agreeing on. And a lot of emotional investment and support.

I'd love to live with a family. Aside from all the practical considerations this would ease, I think it is a great thing religiously to be grounded in a world of responsibility, instead of the Hefker that seems to rule in the singles' scene. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem that the families live anywhere near my peers. I guess I'll have to choose.

It's Gotta be the Shoes

2006-06-15T18:42:00.000-05:00

Tradition. A lot of things in Judaism seem to go back for generations, breathing the spirit of the ages. We don't question their profundity, but simply revel in their indescribable holiness. What is Shabbos? It just is. What is Yiddishe Naches? It just is.

But what is Yichus?

We seem to value it highly. Literally, "connection," the term itself implies the timeless bonds of our faith. But practically, it has such a different connotation. By inference, if there are those who have it, there are those who don't. And yet another system of subdividing fellow Jews into castes is born.

As amazing as it may be to be a descendent of the Vilna Gaon or the Baal Shem Tov (but not both, CHV"S), does it make one a better person? It's an interesting piece of trivia, but does it have an effect on who we are?

From my own observations, I've seen that children definitely do take many of their traits directly from their parents, so it stands to reason that many of those traits likewise go back multiple generations. This would explain how different nationalities tend to have different characteristics, even after generations of intermingling with other peoples. It would also explain how rich families in Europe, for example, were able to come to the States and rebuild their status, whereas those from more modest means turned up on these shores no better off than before. So at least some of the class system seems to be more learned traits than nepotism.

But does this explain the value the Frum community places on Yichus? Obviously, the biggest application of this relates to Shidduchim. People shop around for a descendent of some pious rabbi, but don't seem to inquire on whether the individual mirrors the ancestor deeper than his genome. Why ask whether somebody is the descendent of the Chofetz Chaim? Ask whether he's Makpid on Hilchos Loshon Hora!

Obviously, I have no Yichus. But is this just the rant of a wannabe? Or does the Frum community put a premium status on genealogy merely to insure the exclusivity of its ruling class? There was even one individual I know of who wrote a book illustrating the revered roots of his family...to mark his being honored as a Gvir at a fundraising dinner.

Are we reconnecting with our tradition? Or are we superficially cutting others out?

Gotta Keep On, Keep On, Keep On Moving...

2006-06-12T17:57:00.000-05:00

So the door has opened. And I don't think I can change my mind now.

I'll be interviewing for two different jobs in New York, both for the same company I'm currently with. It sounds likely I'll get my pick of the two, both great roles that I've been eyeing for so long.

Of course, now I'm having second thoughts. Am I really best off relocating to New York? Am I emotionally solid enough for life on my own? Will I remember to eat healthy food?

Those are the easy questions. Where would I live? The two locations I'm interviewing at are not convenient to the city. So do I live close to work? Do I live in a Yeshivish community? Do I live where there are young people? Or do I live where my friends are, despite the commute?

Do I rent? Do I buy? I really want to board with a family. I think it'll keep me grounded, and keep me from being isolated from other people. Sure I can go anywhere for Shabbos, but I do have a tendency to go with inertia and stay put.

Yes, I'm also (primarilly?) going to date. But I'm also going for very promising career advancement. And I'm also going because I don't want to keep missing all my friends' simchas. I don't need to live with them all the time, but I hate being the one in Galus, who has to miss every occasion or pay hundreds of dollars to squeeze in on a weekend.

Is New York the answer to all of my problems? Of course not - it's going to create a whole new set of them. Will it force me to grow up? Yup. And hopefully, it'll help make me into the person I want to be - more independent, more risky. But most importantly, hopefully I'll grow in the ideals that I've always tried to uphold as I progress on a new path of refining myself.

I'll have to keep you posted over the next few weeks - this blog may literally start to go places!

There are Reasons

2006-06-09T17:18:00.000-05:00

Why is my emtional IQ zero? Why is my reaction to everything always obscene? Why do I laugh when others cry? Why am I so different?

Why can't I be left alone?

It's been bothering me lately. New theory - because I grew up without any sisters. Perhaps if I had been exposed to more estrogen growing up, I'd be more in tune with very normal levels of the feminine mind. Perhaps I'd freak out less with the idea of having to partner with one of "them." I'd cause less unintentional pain with my sophomoric reactions; I'd get less looks of ice from my blunt assessment of the facts.

Maybe when the Torah defined P'ru U'revu as a son and a daughter, it intended for us to grow up as balanced and understanding individuals, with exposure to equal elements of rational and emotional thought.

Or maybe I was just dropped on my head.

There's Other Kinds of "Shomer"

2006-06-01T17:44:00.000-05:00

This past weekend I served as a "Shomer", a guardian, for a friend who was getting married. Basically, it involved accompanying him around for 24 hours before the wedding. (It ended up being 24 hours before the pictures, not the Chuppah. Not sure why). I was trying to figure out what the purpose of being a Shomer is. Is it to protect the Chosson? Is it to make sure they don't back out/kill themselves? Is it to make sure they stay Tahor (ritually clean) up until the wedding night? Is it just to serve as an entourage, to give respect to the "king/queen for a day?" Or is it just a Halachically recognized emotional/practical support for a person on a very big day? That's to be determined.

But what it did accomplish is cause me to rethink this whole marriage thing.

I helped review my friend's Chosson classes. That's where they teach the groom all those, um, intricate details of marriage that he hasn't been exposed to before in the frum world. I didn't learn anything new in that respect. But what I did learn is I have no clue what the additional Halachic responsibilities are of getting married. I like to think of myself as pretty frum. It's easy to be Machmir on everything. Showing up to Minyan on time, not so hard. But Taharas HaMispacha? That's hard. Forget about all the emotional challenges. There's a lot of detail there that I just don't know. And you can't just be Machmir.

Of course, the same goes for Shabbos and Kashrus. Those are easy now. But once I have my own home? There are a lot of details that I just don't know. And even if I learn them, they are very challenging to keep.

I'm not saying I'm abandoning ship. I'd love to learn more and keep it all. But I can fully appreciate the challenges that newlyweds face. Suddenly, they can make their own decisions about how religious they want to be. And many want to be more religious. But they are thrown wholly unprepared into a new world of Halacha with details beyond their knowledge, and many are overwhelmed and forced to adapt to standards they wouldn't have subscribed to.

But that is just one of the reasons I have to rethink my readiness for marriage. The bigger problem was a non-Halachic insight my friend shared from his teacher.

Women are crazy.

Probably not a new idea to some, probably an exaggeration to others. But if this is true, then it means that my whole presumption that there is a girl out there that I can just reason with is flawed. Don't get me wrong. I fully expect that every girl will cry for some reason I can't understand. I know there are hormonal swings that have to be dealt with. And I know that our minds work differently. But if at the root of who we are, I can't speak the same language as a woman, I might go insane.

Of course, I may have misunderstood my friend's teacher. But if that is the case, I'm probably not ready to get married myself anyways.

Heller's Barbershop

2006-05-25T16:39:00.000-05:00

The neighborhood barbership had been in the family for 75 years. It had been founded by Grandpa Isaac, a Russian immigrant who had finally opened up his own shop after coming to the US with nothing. He had worked for 12 years as an apprentice, and by the time of his death employed two other haircutters. His two sons, George and Harris, had dutifully taken it over. George, the eldest, had been working alongside his father for a number of years, while Harris had joined on only following their father's passing. The small corner shop continued to flourish as a focal point of the neighborhood's men, and the shop grew to include 6 full time stylists.

George fathered only daughters, and Harris' lone son, Michael, showed little interest in the family business. As the two men aged, the shop's fortune waned. George's daughter eventually married a bright young man named Phil, who was eager to help out his father-in-law, and quickly gained a reputation as a talented barber. But it wasn't his styling ability that proved a boon to his new family. Phil proved adept at business, and successfully expanded the business. It quickly grew, first from 6 to 10 barbers, then 14, until finally the family opened up an additional location, which proved to flourish as well.

Phil had not only restored income back to the family coffers, but had brought a dying name back to life. The numerous cousins now belonged to highly recognized name that was associated with the social warmth and traditional roots of the community. There was one thing that bothered Phil. As a son-in-law, he was bitter that his wife's brother Michael never contributed to the business. Michael came into the store occasionally, but apparently only to collect his free haircut. Michael seemed disinterested in the store's success at best, but didn't seem to have any compunction about receiving his share of the store's proceeds that all the descendents of Grandpa Isaac received. Did Michael want to see the business fail? Michael was a Heller. Why didn't he care about preserving the Heller family name?

Michael had never really held any job of note. He didn't seem to be motivated enough to dedicate any serious time to his career. He had married Michelle, his high school sweetheart, two months after graduating college. Michael and Michelle seemed infatuated with each other, barely noticing the world around them. They had had 6 kids, and both appeared to dedicate more of their time to raising their children than any other cause in the world.

Phil was getting older, and the money wasn't motivating him to expand the family business like it had when he was younger. By this point, his only concern was keeping the family business alive. With no apparent successor in the family poised to take over from him, Phil's stress grew every year as he foresaw the future of the business he had invested his life in. The feelings he had for Michael grew to animosity, as he squarely placed blame for any difficulties the business was having on his brother-in-law.

Finally, exasperated with the thought of having to close the family business, Phil confronted Michael.

"I've put my entire life into continuing the dreams of our Grandfather. I've grown the little shop into a small empire. You seem interested in continuing to be supported by the barbershop, but you don't seem the least bit interested in helping continue to keep the Heller name alive!"

Michael humbly peered into Phil's eyes, and looked off towards a distant tree. He hesitated, as his gaze returned to his brother-in-law, and sighed. No matter how much he knew Phil had enabled him to succeed, Michael knew that Phil would never appreciate the mission their Grandfather had entrusted him with. It was he, Michael, who was now the proud grandfather of a baby Isaac.

Coming Back

2006-05-23T18:32:00.000-05:00

Spending a day in Brooklyn can be a little overwhelming for an out of town Ba'al Teshuva (born-again Jew). There are Jews everywhere. Jewish stores, Jewish signs, even Jewish license plates. It's a bit much.

But it made me think about the religious lifestyle I lead, and how much it is different from my brethren who have always been frum. Can my own religious lifestyle ever be the same as theirs? Would I want my lifestyle to be the same as theirs?

I have a lot of freedom to objectively observe Jewish Law, independently of how it is commonly practiced. That is good and it is bad. For example, I had to choose my own prononciation of Hebrew words, which forced me to learn what the differences are, where they come from, and how they are viewed in Halacha. I think most Frum from birth (FFB) people just take their parents' prononciations for granted, not realizing how much depth there is to even such a simple issue. Even if in the end we come out at the same place, I've gained so much in my approach.

Of course, there are also the many phases of Baal Teshuvakeit, from testing the waters to utter zealousness. I've gone through them all. I remember when I skipped any prayer that seemed remotely optional, even if it just had a smaller font. I also remember when I thought it was frummer to add in every page, paragraph, and bracket into my prayers. But there is a certain maturity that eventually develops.

By its very nature, my approach to Orthodoxy is at the same time fundamentalist and open minded. But can my perspective ever be the same as that of an always been frum person? Could I marry an FFB? I know many BTs go that route, and many stay amongst people from similar backgrounds. A lot of it results from the natural attraction between people of similar experience. But beyond that, can the wide-eyed evaluation of the BT coexist with the cautious eyes of the FFB? Do they balance each other out?

It seems that so much of Orthodoxy is merely cultural norms, not Frumkeit. How do you raise your kids with that open-mindedness, that honest search?

Will I ever fit in? Do I want to fit in?

Hot Seat

2006-05-18T21:47:00.000-05:00

The sweat soaks the hair at the base of my neck, gathering into beads and rolling in a cold and uneven line down my back. I blink, shoot my eyes to my right, glance at the screen, but quickly avert my gaze. I'm trying to focus, think of the possibilities. There are only two; why is this so hard? What do I want? I thought I knew already, but then I changed my mind. It feels like I've been sitting here, frozen, for hours. Well, it has been almost an hour. And yet I haven't come any closer to making a call. I thought it was a definite yes, then absolutely no. Every second I've known what I wanted, but every minute I had a different answer. But the light, why does it seem so bright? Somebody just tell me what to do!

Paralyzed. That is me. I can't order dinner without going back and forth for ten minutes, changing my mind right after the waiter writes it down, and immediately second guessing my choice. Small decisions, big decisions- it doesn't matter. I'm very analytical, and very idealistic. Every choice to me is Gdly; every choice means good or evil, bettering myself and the world or otherwise. I feel the pressure is unavoidable, even as I rationally realize that I'm handicapping myself.

Some people procrastinate out of laziness, I procrastinate out of fear of the consequences. If I miss an opportunity, that's not my fault. If I make the wrong decision, I have only myself to blame. In the world of theory, deep analysis helps me come up with clearer views on what I want from life. It even helps me guide others. But when it comes down to crunch time, I'm caught in the headlights. I envy the spontaneous people. Not those that act without thinking, but those that can think clearly and be comfortable with their best judgement.

Happiness is just on the other side of the wall. But is it door number one or door number two?

Looking for a Teacher...

2006-05-17T08:27:00.000-05:00

One of the worlds that the J-blogosphere has enabled me to peak into is the isolated reaches of the Chassidic community. Fascinating unto itself, with its own set of successes and failures, it is also interesting to see how uniform it is. There are countless varieties of Chassidic groups, and of course each one is distinct from the others in a variety of ways. But as far as lifestyle, they are so remarkably similar. They all fall somewhere into the Ultra-Orthodox camp. Even between Lubavitch and Satmar, when compared to the rest of the world, they occupy almost the same niche.

I suppose from a historical perspective, this fundamentalist approach makes sense, as Chassidus developed as a reaction to a number of issues that challenged the integrity of the Jewish community. But aside from those historical issues, I find it amazing that this uniform approach still pervades today. Other than the possible exception ofAish Kodesh in Woodmere, NY (no, MOChossid doesn't count), I don't even think there are any examples of a modern Orthodox Chassidus. Why don't any Chassidic groups go to college, for example? Obviously there are some individuals that do, and I'm not saying that such an act is an advisable choice, but it just seems odd that college, as an example, is universally ignored in the Chassidic world.

You could think of the uniformity of dress as well. It just seems that there would be a similar demand in the Modern Orthodox world for the same philosophies, so it seems odd that while the Misnagdish world spans a grey continuum from Lakewood to Humanistic with almost no breaks, the Chassidic world appears to have very little plurality. With so many different Rebbes, you'd think there'd be more differentiation.

Another aspect of this black and white diversity question is why Chassidic communities end up being the only true outlet for their followers. Obviously, everyone sees only one truth for themselves, and that's why they pursue it. They might be in a Yeshiva in Brooklyn, or a frum doctor in Minneapolis, each thinking they live the most Gdly lifestyle, but I don't think either one would consider his son frei if he chose to lead the other's lifestyle. We may not think that derech is the emmes, but we understand that it is frum. (Yes, I realize that there are those in the non-Chassidic world who are closed minded about this issue as well. My point is that that diversity and ability to move between modern and chareidi exists within the Misnagdish world.)

But in the Chassidic world, if you leave the Rebbe, you leave the fold. You might as well put up an x-mas tree. It's either the Chassidus or you're not frum. But I always saw Chassidus as an elite approach to Yiddishkeit. You choose it to be closer to Gd if that works for you, and if not you live with the rest of the mortals. It's an emmes, a truth, if it works for you, but if not, you go back to being Shomer Shabbos and Rebbe-less like the rest of us. It's similar to joining a monastery. It might make you more frum as you completely dedicate your life to a singular journey, but certainly those in other realms are struggling to make the right choices as well.

I don't know if this post is supposed to question the rigidity of the Chassidic lifestlye, or to wish that it could be made available to a wider range of people. It's a world I've always been fond of, however imperfect it may be. I guess we all just want a Rebbe.

Old Dog, New Tricks

2006-05-14T20:46:00.000-05:00

I don't hate teachers. I never have. I've been the model student, and have had plenty of teachers that I've looked up to. So I can't figure out why I am so biased against dating girls who are teachers.

First off, more than half the women I've dated have been teachers. And my mother and grandmother are/were both teachers. I know people who are great teachers. But when it comes to being offered to get set up with a girl who teaches, I can't help but roll my eyes.

I'm not sure where this bias comes from. Maybe it is because I perceive girls who go into teaching as being too "inside the box," people unwilling to pursue their own self-fulfillment at the risk of being perceived as too independent. Maybe it is because I don't want to marry somebody like my mother, whom I perceive as too one-dimensional (Ma, if you're reading this, no offense. You're great, just not my type. Happy Mother's Day!) Maybe it is because I see too many people go into teaching as a demonstration of their religious committment instead of their qualifications for the job.

I don't know why it is such a turn off, but I definitely like the sound of pre-med or business over education. Of course, the irony is that I will probably end up marrying some uber-teacher.

Home Sweet Home

2006-05-11T18:47:00.000-05:00

I've written before about travelling to date. It's a complicated issue, but one that I've been on both sides of the fence. But as I look back on 18 months in Chicago, I'm actually considering taking the travelling for dating to a whole new level - moving.

I'd hardly be the first person to transplant myself for the sake of finding a bashert. But the question is, to what extreme does it make sense? Sure, if you're deciding between two job offers or colleges, you might factor in the social outlets afforded by each. But if you were firmly and securely established in one city, would you pack up and start again in another?

Now, I do have a request for a transfer in at my company to their New York offices. That wouldn't be such a leap, but that is hardly a guarantee. But would it be sane to quit my job, just to be able to move? Perhaps if I had another job lined up, but what about just quitting and moving? Marriage is important to me (and based on my last post, I am apparently thirsting for a deeper relationship), but is dating above making a living for me? Is it a matter of Bitachon, that all will fall into place, or on the other hand should I worry that not having a job will handicap my Shidduch resume?

Then of course, there is the other factor, what I'd be leaving behind. First, one girl here actually scolded me for focusing my dating efforts on New York, since that wasn't giving the local girls a fair chance (who are apparently having a hard time finding eligible guys). But I've only had two dates in Chicago since I moved here; I don't think I have to sacrifice myself to the theoretical altar of waiting Maidels. Second, obviously my family is here. Oh right, that was never a factor for me. I'm not interested in living in Chicago long-term. But I'm not interested in living in New York either. So it really is just playing the game, coming home with a trophy (yes, I realize that is an obscene metaphor. Just chuckle and move on...), and taking her far away. Where I don't know, but I would not consider New York the first city on my list for raising my children.

It's a lot of strain facing such difficult choices in life. Sometimes we know which path we have to march down to get to our goal, even if the path turns out of sight into a dark and foreboding barrier.

Dressed for Success

2006-05-11T16:46:00.000-05:00

Sorry for the extraneous post, but the core of this blog has been ignored too long. So back to the basics...

I had some problems getting dressed this morning. I woke up all groggy, only to realize that I had no more clean shirts in my closet since I forgot to do my laundry last night. I staggered downstairs, hoping to find some miscellaneous reject hanging on the clothesline that would at least qualify as clothing. Happily, I saw two shirts, one light and one dark. Upon inspecting the light shirt (I'm a white shirt, dark pants kind of frummie), I saw it was my size (14 1/2) and a brand that I had, so I grabbed it and headed out. I got to shul only to realize I was wearing a pink shirt. Whoops.

But a funky shirt isn't enough to qualify for a blog post. Halfway through the day, my pant cuff came un-done. What do do? So I stapled it back up. Classy.

I am one put together gentleman.

Kryptonite

2006-05-09T08:27:00.000-05:00

I've written before about my belief that there is nothing intrinsically wrong with a guy and a girl being friends, even in the Frum world. And I still believe that. But right now, I'm confused. I'm in over my head. Not in the relationship sense, but in the rational sense. My comfortable boundaries have become so blurred, not because my ideals are bending, but because I'm encountering new scenarios that can't easily be classified into right and wrong, safe and unsafe.

My underlying philosophy is that both parties stand to gain a lot from a friendship, and those benefits shouldn't be negated just because of the sex of the two parties. But at what point does it become cheating on your spouse, even if that spouse is only a theoretical future partner? And at what rate do we compare the benefits to the risks?

I've learned that I have raw emotions. I've learned that I can expose myself to emotional risk. But sometimes I forget that I'm not Superman.

Sweet Nothings and Train Wrecks

2006-05-07T12:21:00.000-05:00

Some people enjoy a quiet Shabbos to catch up on much needed rest. Others like to take the occasional vacation to an exotic locale or arrange social opportunities to reconnect with various friends. My parents were out this weekend, forcing me to find an alternative source of food. My first reaction was to starve. But then I decided why not drive numerous hours and let random bloggers take care of me?

And so I spent Shabbos at the BlogBlond household. The food was delicious, the kids were entertaining, and the weather was perfect. Duriung various parts of Shabbos I met PhotoChick, Rebel W/O a Clue, and Kaenahora. Gas was expensive, but you can't put a price on a spiritual retreat. And what better blog material than to see how random an offer I will take from my blog. Obviously, I follow through with things. So my only question is, who's next?

I am BlogBlond and I approve this message....Blogblond

Wave Your Flag

2006-05-03T07:32:00.000-05:00

Why I'm not celebrating Yom Ha'atzmaut:

1) Israel is a false prophet of the Jewish people.
2) Israel is a false idol to many Jews.
3) Israel is a false Messiah to many Jews.

Why I'm not celebrating Naqba Day:

1) Israel is the only country that exempts for military service if you dedicate your life to learning Torah.
2) Israel has made it safe for anyone to live or visit in the Holy Land.
3) Israel has kept Judaism relevant for so many.

I have to run to work, but I hope to add some more later. Feel free to contribute your own. Hat tip to Ayala for reminding me of the day.

Back to Life?

2006-05-01T20:42:00.000-05:00

This past Shabbos, I went on a small NCSY Shabbaton. It was my first volunteer/organizational work in quite awhile. And it felt really nice to be back in a "people" role. All NCSY politics aside for now, it was fun having a purpose to a Shabbos beyond my own growth. It was a relaxed atmosphere, the kids were fun, and I'll even admit to socially appreciating the opportunity just to meet a few new peers in my age bracket.

But a wanted to share an additional part of the story, a piece that only one of the other kids shared in.

This past week, Yom Hashoah was commemorated. It's a time to remember the barbarism of the Holocaust, but also all travesties of human behavior, past and present. Soviet Russia was just another sad moment in the course of human history. Jews, among many other peoples, were persecuted for their differences. The Soviet government flexed its very powerful muscles against any group that was capable of fragmenting communist unity, and the Jewish religion suffered deeply as a result. Teaching Judaism become intolerable and practicing it became stifling. The Soviets were nearly successful in their attempts to snuff out all remnants of Jewish life, using the heavy hand of the totalitarian regime to deadly result.

There was one Jewish man, in his mid 50's, who was no different than the rest. His traditions and religion had been ripped away from him, and by this point in his life, he knew almost nothing of his spiritual inheritance. He didn't practice any aspects of the religion, and barely identified as Jewish. But one Rabbi, a forgotten profession in those parts, wouldn't let him slide into oblivion. One day, this Rabbi slipped him a piece of paper, a small sheet that had been ripped out of a worn book. It was the Kaddish, the prayer for the deceased, and the Rabbi beseeched this man that he do his best to find a Minyan to pray with once a year to commemorate the Yahrtzeits of his ancestors.

Fast forward twenty years. The man has made his way to America, to quiet suburbia, where he need not choose between his freedom and his principles. But communist Russia has taken its toll, and he still remains largely ignorant of his Jewish heritage. However, every year he has made it to a synagogue, where he pulls out a yellowed piece of paper, carefully creased and placed in his wallet, and recites the Kaddish prayer.

But this year, he shows up at the synagogue, but its doors are locked. This shul doesn't have a Minyan on Shabbos afternoon, the day his Yahrtzeit fell out this year. But before he leaves, he is admitted to the shul, by a child of 15 years. His luck has won once again- a group of students is holding a prayer service in the sanctuary and he is invited to join and say his Kaddish. He opens his wallet, and pulls out a crumbling piece of paper, with the words of the Kaddish carefully typed out in Russian, without any Hebrew. He gently unfolds the fraying prayer, and utters the timeless prayer, "Yisgadel V'Yisgadesh..."

That was the story of the elder gentleman davening behind me at the Shabbaton this weekend.

Half-Baked

2006-04-27T20:36:00.000-05:00

I'm going to apologize for this not-so-thought-out post. I'm really just trying to bury my last post. It was whipping up too many passions, which was the last thing I intended when I wrote it.

Just three quick thoughts -

1) After returning from studying in Israel, I carried Shekels in my wallet, so that I would always have money to get a ride from the airport to my Yeshiva on my next trip, whenever it might be. I replaced the cash after each trip for the first few years. But after 7 years, I now have a Metrocard where the Shekels used to be, ostensibly for the same reason from LaGuardia to YU. Where did I go wrong?

2) Why do frum families have so many kids? I'm familiar with the law of P'eru U'revu, be fruitful and multiply, but the Halacha only calls for one son and one daughter to fulfill this. Obviously more would be valued, if they can be properly raised. But I wonder where the benchmark of 6, 9, and 12+ kids in a family was set. 100 years ago did they have so many kids? And if they did was it because they figured some wouldn't make it to adulthood? Nowadays we don't have those fears to such a degree. Are we just trying to bolster our numbers? Does Halacha really value quantity over quality? Or do our communal standards deviate from Halachic ideals. Please note - this topic is not meant for BlogBlond. BB, please disregard this topic, and address the next.

3) Why is chocolate so yummy? Why is it that an entire day can change with one scrumptious piece? Why is life like a box of chocolates?

Immodest vs. Indecent

2006-04-25T20:25:00.000-05:00

Most people like to wear clothes. Not all, but most. But why is it that people who would wear a skimpy bikini on the beach hesitate to open their front door when wearing just an undershirt?

People don't seem to mind going around undressed, they just want to make sure they are appropriately undressed. Of course, in the Frum world, the concept of Tznius, modesty, plays a role in how much/how little we wear. It seems though that people have trouble differentiating between laws of modesty, which define how much a person should be covered in any situation, and the norms of decency, which dictate what a person feels comfortable wearing in various situations.

Tznius is about a person's relationship with Gd, from the verse, "Walk modestly with your Gd." Like any commandment, some follow it, while others don't. My main issue is with those who feel that Tznius must be guarded for other's sake, i.e. a girl who throws on a skirt because she is going to be seeing a Frum guy she knows. I have no problem with her choosing not to follow the laws of Tznius between herself and Gd, but what is accomplished by her covering up for me? Does she think I've never seen a woman in pants before?

That's the modesty side of the debate. Now for the decency side. I have recently encountered a phenemenon in the Frum world called the Shabbos robe. For those of you who know what that is, sorry for being so slow in catching on. For those of you who don't know what a Shabbos robe is, picture a bath robe with a zipper on the front instead of a belt. And a flower sewn on to the waist. Think of a Muumuu with some sparkles and velvet.

A Shabbos robe enables the lady (or ladies) of the house to attend to official functions, like the Shabbos meal table, in comfortable clothing, a compromise if you will between pajamas and a suit. Apparently, some head for Shabbos strolls in their quasi-formalwear as well.

But it seems strange to me that while the men of the house torment themselves in black hatitude in 90 degree heat, the women are lounging in glorified nightgowns. In my mind, Frumkeit calls for a high level of decency. We don't answer our front doors wearing wife beaters. This is the part of dress where we are sensitive to how we appear in front of others. And it has less to do with showing skin than with showing others that you're ready. Being fully dressed is a sign of readiness, preparedness to tackle challenges and live up to your potential. You wear a suit to work and you wear your sweat suit to the gym because you're optimized for succeeding at those tasks. And Frumkeit is all about being ready for our purpose. Women are not excluded from this higher purpose.

So why will a Frum women answer the door in a robe, but not in her sweat suit?

Why is this Night?

2006-04-12T08:54:00.000-05:00

During my first year in Israel, our Yeshiva took a tour of the Kotel tunnels guided by Esther Schlisser. She's a native Yerushalmi who is very passionate about the importance of the land. She relayed a Medrash to our group which describes Gd holding a cup, filled almost to the brim with tears. It is this special cup, Esther relayed, that will ultimately bring the redemption of the Jewish people. When the cup is finally overflowed with just a few last tears of the Jewish people longing for their Redeemer, Moshiach's hand will be forced.

What is the magical secret of this cup? To me what was so poignant about this Medrash was specifically that it wasn't esoteric. Moshiach isn't waiting for a collision of the cosmos, and he isn't waiting for a miraculous feat of spiritual accomplishment. He's just waiting for somebody to care. Just one. One person to cry out of a real understanding of what Moshiach is.

But crying doesn't come easy. I mean, we can cry over many things, but to cry for something selfless, that's unique. But very attainable. It just requires being able to tap one's inner emotions using one's intellect. Difficult for the one who reasons away faith, and difficult for the one who feels away all rationales, but just one step removed from everybody. We just have to cry.

During the Passover Seder, we dip numerous items in salt water, ostensibly to remind us of the tears suffered by the Jews enslaved in ancient Egypt. But the Seder night, we are told, isn't just a history lesson, but a night of living renewal. We are each commanded to taste the freedom of redemption from Egypt, but also slavery's bitter tears. It's not enough to tell the story, but each one of us must put ourselves into the storyline.

The secret to becoming first-hand participants in the story of Passover? To allow our senses, emotions, and intellect to unite. So too if we want to merit the ultimate redemption, all we are called upon is to make it real. One tear is all it takes.

May we merit to bring the Passover offering this year in the rebuilt Temple in Jerusalem. A Chag Kasher V'Sameach to everyone! In accordance with the tradition of avoiding unnecessary writing during the Holiday, I will plan on returning after Pesach, unless of course I come upon some inspiring words to share!

Oy Vey, Bubbaleh!

2006-04-09T18:03:00.000-05:00

Why do Jewish mothers worry? Is there some 614th commandment that I never studied? What part of the Jewish religion encourages or at least incubates neurotic behavior and guilt complexes?

This has nothing to do with the stresses of this time of year, but it's strange, because I think this stereotype is evident across the spectrum of Jewish identity in a way that isn't seen amongst non-Jewish mothers. Sure, you can tell me about the history of anti-semitism, and very real fears, but is there a reason those anxieties should persist in America? At what point does a defensive mechanism actually self-asphxiate? Perhaps it steps from our hyper-awareness of living in the shadows of an omnipotent Gd? But even most observant Jews aren't that religious.

How many Jewish men look for non-Jewish women because they want to live life carefree, without looking behind their backs every minute? How many inferiority complexes will it take for us to reevaluate the pyschological health of our culture? And what will it take to get my mom to stop nagging me about taking out the garbage?

All Alone

2006-04-06T08:43:00.000-05:00

This post is going to be like a Dvar Torah. I'm going to take two unrelated ideas and tie them together, not because they naturally relate, but because I wouldn't have enough to say unless I bring up two small points. And it'll sound a whole lot more professional if I make it sound like one fancy idea.

Some may have noticed my recent absence. In fact, it has been my longest time without posting since restarting my blog 14 months ago, I believe. While I have been busy/travelling, I will admit that mostly I haven't written because I haven't had any inspiration to write. Not that I haven't had ideas. I just haven't wanted to sit down and write. Truthfully, I've noticed a quiet all around the J-blogosphere. I'm not sure if I'm suffering from the same seasonal disorder as the rest of the bloggers, or the general silence is de-motivating me. Either way, I have definitely felt isolated recently, with the near freeze of blog activity coinciding with the general lack of anything interesting going on in my life.

On the other hand, at the dinner I attended last week, numerous individuals whom I know from real life mentioned that they've been keeping up with my life through my blog (although apparently as lurkers). This was very refreshing, seeing that my writing has kept me connected to friends from different parts of my life. So blogging should be breaking that loneliness, bringing new blog friends and old real friends into the same mix.

Now let me define loneliness, lest anyone start fearing depression, or, worse, absolute loser. Rabbi JB Soloveitchik wrote about a concept of loneliness endemic to the human race. In fact, he wrote a book about it, called The Lonely Man of Faith. I'm not a philosopher, nor a book reviewer, so I make no claims as to the accuracy of my interpretation. But the basic premise is that all humankind suffers from a certain feeling of isolation in this world as a result of its vastness. We all face this tension in some way. Some turn to social outlets, attempting to connect to other people to feel less alone, whether this be a spouse, a chavrusa, or a drinking buddy. But Rabbi Soloveitchik proposes that the only true connection that can remove us from the isolation is that with our Creator.

With that background, I hope that this blog serves more of the latter purpose. My lack of writing shouldn't increase the loneliness, but rather represents only part of the channel through which I connect with my Creator on a daily basis. Hopefully, I'll be inspired with more words more often to keep all you along for the ride as well.

Bina and Daas...

2006-03-20T20:49:00.000-06:00

I've always been an admirer of Chabad-Lubavitch. I've never let myself get dragged into the whole anti-Chabad, messianic disputes. But I recently journeyed into the core of the Lubavitch blog-world, courtesy of Chanie. And what I found amazed me.

I've always known Chabad through the emissaries (shluchim) they send out to communities. Through these interactions, I've always viewed Chabad people as very open-minded, worldly people, who've successfully combined their traditional world with an ability to relate to others all around them. But the window from the blog-world has shown me another world altogether, a world not separated by space it seems, but merely shaded from the view of outsiders like myself.

I'm not talking about the Rebbe is Moshiach crowd. Writing that off to isolated splinter groups still doesn't account for all of the odd practices considered common within the mainstream Lubavitch community. Chanie put together a quiz on her blog, and a number of the questions left me so puzzled, I couldn't understand where they were coming from.

Some examples -

The informal poll claims to determine whether you're Chassidishe. However, it seems that it actually identifies a Chabbadnik, as most of the criteria wouldn't identify a Chassid, neither in the Mishnaic or Baal Shem Tov sense.

Second, the poll asks whether participants participate in Farbrengens or have a Mashpia. These seem like nice high school terms, but I'm not sure why they would make somebody a better Chassid. They aren't Jewish commandments, and it would seem that somebody could be a great Chabadnik too through other channels.

Third, the quiz assumes that a Chassid should memorize Tanya, read rambam, learn the Rebbes sichos (addresses), and say Chitas (Chumash, Tehillim, and Tanya). Now these could be quirks of Chabad. Every group of Chassidim have their own favorite books. It just seems interesting that the wrote reading of specific works is so important. I understand if Chabad people find Tanya inspiring and educational, but again shouldn't learning anything make you a better Chassid?

Finally, Chanie asks how often do you write a letter to the Rebbe, and do you think the Rebbe is proud of you. Chanie is not a Rebbe is Moshiach person (at least I think), and I don't think that these views of the Rebbe as a personal mentor make you a heretic. But judging people's level based on their connection to a dead person? That sounds anti-productive to me. I have no problem if anybody finds inspiration in an historical character. It may seem a little weird if they communicate regularly with a person who is no longer with us. But it reaches a whole new level when such a relationship is a community standard of a good Chassid vs. a bad Chassid. This aspect is something very hard for me to accept.

Chanie is pretty mainstream Lubavitch. And even if she doesn't represent everyone out there, it is still enlightening to see even this one perspective. But yet I just can't understand how a core group so isolated from the normative reality of the frum world could hope to impact scattered Jewish souls. I'm not talking about the basic Misnaged vs. Chassid debate either. I expect Chassidim to be more ghettoed and rebbe oriented. I'm only frum because of Lubavitch. But is this normal?

Freilechen...

2006-03-15T18:51:00.000-06:00

I am not a fan of drinking.

Enough said.

Jackpot

2006-03-11T20:42:00.000-06:00

Every few months it seems that some factory worker wins some $300 million lottery. There is inevitably media attention on his rags to riches fame (with an undertone that most of these stories end in rags once again, but I'm not going to broach that topic).

But what is notable, that he bought a lottery ticket? Did he invent the wheel? There is nothing noteworthy in someone winning a game of chance. In fact, statistically, the outcome was quite predictable. I don't need to rehash all the cliche arguments, that lotteries simply are a tax on the stupid. But they really serve no purpose.

Most of the United States bans most forms of gambling. People become addicted and funnel all of their expendable (and non-expendable) income into a slim chance that their life will be instantaneously turned around. But it's not going to happen.

And even if you did win, what have you accomplished? Will all this money make you happy? Forget about what it can and can't buy. In my mind, money you haven't earned can never make you happy. The only way to happiness is by contributing to the world and reaching your goals. But just being handed $300 million is just a reshuffling of income. Like any gambling, it doesn't represent any increased economic output. It is simply everyone contributing a few dollars and giving most to one person and the rest to the State. No matter how many toys you buy, no wonder you're left with an empty feeling. Who can feel accomplished when they've been handed a prize they didn't earn?

Judaism comes down hard on gambling. Even if you argue that it is not completely forbidden, the fact that your winnings are viewed as stolen goods should lead to a similar conclusion. It always bothered me seeing the ultra-orthodox in Mea Shearim buying tickets for Israel's lottery. Not only does such behavior seem counter to the law of Judaism, but it seems to belie a lack of commitment to the productive lifestyle that Judaism espouses, and to the divine rewards bestowed therein. (And of course, they are supporting the Medina through the idiot tax.)

So put your money in the stock market. The 65,999,999 people that don't win the lottery will make a much higher return in the end. And they'll have earned it by giving something to the world in return.

Trapped

2006-03-08T17:27:00.000-06:00

It's amazing how so many people feel stuck in a particular religious community. There are a number of bloggers who have written about feeling constrained by living in a world that has so many fixed rules. Some end up leaving them completely, while others end up spending years complaining about how they are being held back against their will.

Personally, I can't comment on every community. But I can say that no place is perfect, and there are always those that won't enjoy a community no matter how ideal it is. People just come with different preferences.

OK, so what is my point?

The decision to find what's right for you is in your own hands. Nobody is holding you back. But nobody is pushing you. Only you can find the right balance between all the elements around you that are right and wrong. You can't necessarily change your community. But you can change who you are. Even if nobody else follows your lead, you'll still be happier being true to what you think is right (if you are really doing what you think is right, but that's a whole different story). And if enough people start to assert their own beliefs, then the community standards will gradually fall in line with being more accepting of people's choices.

Might it hurt your (or your family's) shidduch chances? Might it affect your standing in the Kehilla? Sure. But if you believe that those institutions aren't in-line with what you believe to be true, then playing by their rules won't help you in any way. What good is a "good" shidduch in a system that penalizes you for being yourself? If you have to fake who you are, do you really think you'll get something more in-line with what you want?

This is somewhat of a mini-rant. But I found it self-applicable in many ways. Thanks for listening.

The Invisible Line

2006-03-06T19:52:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I had the immense privilege of finally breaking down the barrier between blogger and real, beating heart. And I couldn't have thought of a better occasion than AnySara's wedding. I had never met her before, and only known her, like you, through our blogs. But the personal touch was there, the shared simcha real. I met other bloggers, The Tailor and BlogBlond, there as well. And all I can say is how amazingly real our connection was.

But I don't want to get caught up in the amazement of putting live flesh to the personalities I already know well. The shining star of the evening truly was the joy of the bride and groom. It was the real deal, not tarnished in the least by any of the trimmings that end up overshadowing so many weddings. The guests were truly a diverse crowd, each bringing their own unique connection to the bride and groom. But yet the entire room meshed into one to celebrate the truly holy matrimony that united us.

I took a bunch of pictures, and I hope to share some after receiving the necessary approvals.

Frei Guys Have All the Fun

2006-03-02T19:44:00.000-06:00

At Friday night dinner on the UWS, one of the guests made this interesting observation. Yeshivish people have no life. He didn't mean that in a specifically mocking way. He just meant that they don't do anything. They don't go out to movies, they don't go to bars or clubs, and they don't really go out to any of the places that most other people do.

The first question - is the observation valid? Perhaps it is an unfair generalization. But I tend to agree with the speaker, if for no other reason than I have no life either. The second question - why would this be so? Is it part of the Yeshivish hashkafa that hobbies are Assur? Is it specifically a Modern Orthodox feature to have outside interests?

I think if you look closely, right wing orthodox people do indeed have personal interests they are occupied with in addition to just Torah and sleep. However, I think the disdain for busying ourselves with entertainment bespeaks the Hashkafa that our lives our filled with purpose. By spending our life searching for ways to occupy our time, we are only finding ways to ignore our potential. If life is about growth, how can we value as a society interests that are meant to distract us from acheiving our potential? It is a valueless society that leaves its citizens struggling to find mundane matters to occupy their time so as to distract them from their mortality. But a religious mind filled with purpose knows there is so much more to accomplish. How can you watch prime time tv, when you consider the fact that you ideologically know that it doesn't represent any improvement, personally or communally?

Does that mean that all forms of entertainment are forbidden temptations, hedonistic self-worship? Does this mean that somebody who can't handle the pressure of constant acheivement is left behind? No. It just means we have to understand our actions in context. Recognize what is growth, what is rest, and what is waste. You can watch Seinfeld to gain a greater artistic understanding of Gd's creations, you can watch it to enjoy a lighthearted critique of society, or you can enjoy it for the rampant sexual connotations.

Earlier in my life, I viewed Modern Orthodoxy as the latter - living its values contrary to a Torah lifestyle when not specifically usurped by Halachah. Later, I gained appreciation for Modern Orthodoxy to accomplish the former - to learn from even the most un-Torah sources the secrets of creation. However, it seems that even the cream of the Modern Orthodox crop seem stuck in that middle category today, that living in recreational mode is enough.

Do Yeshivish people have no hobbies because they are growth oriented? Surely this wouldn't be going through everyone's mind - many were just told it is frei to partake in these activities. But what of those people that can't keep up with this rigorous lifestyle? Is Assur an answer, when not ideal is the truth? Should we enforce the ideal as a communal standard? Should we just admit that they aren't on a certain level, and do keep themselves entertained, and vaguely on the derech? How should the Yeshivish world view these people? Or perhaps they have a secret that we don't.

Or maybe I should just get a life.

UWS - Sketchy, Shady, or Both?

2006-02-28T19:36:00.000-06:00

Returning from a trip to New York usually leaves me with plenty of things I want to write about and not enough time to write them. With my apologies, I'll just fill you in on the trip now and save the deeper thoughts for later. The wedding was great, and I saw a bunch of random people I hadn't seen in awhile. I stopped by the SOY Seforim Sale and grabbed some of the latest releases. I spent a Shabbos on the UWS (not my speed), but was with some really great people. I went to a bar for the first time in my life, and wasn't successful in putting any faces to blogger friends. I may have to restart dating more actively (three calls the day I got back), and I'll be busy with a few projects over the next few weeks, so I may be sporadic online. Hopefully, I'll get my pictures up too. I did want to share with you my Google Video creation, available here.

Speaking of Google Video, a friend from Yeshiva asked me to post the following unpaid advertisement, which I wouldn't normally do except for the fact that his email was funny. I can definitely appreciate a little PR...

A 7-11 STUDIOS PRODUCTION...

FROM THE MAKERS OF THE LAST GATE...

COMES A NEW FILM THAT WILL BLOW YOUR MIND...

1 MAN...

1 MISSION...

AND ANOTHER "MAN" STANDING IN HIS WAY...

ARI CARMEN IS...

THE SHTIEGMASTER

IN THE NEWEST CHAPTER IN THE SAGA...

DIRECTED BY MOSHE BRYSTOWSKI...

SHTIEGMASTER 6 0 0 0

A TALE OF LOVE...
REVENGE...
MURDER...
BETRAYAL...
AND SHTIEGING...

COMING SOON TO COMPUTERS EVERYWHERE...
GET PUMPED AND CHECK VIDEO.GOOGLE.COM FOR OUR MARCH RELEASE...

"...A film not to be missed..."
-Mati Schayer

"...a beautiful depiciton of post-war Jerusalem..."
-Rabbi Zvi Ron

"...Da Bomb..."
-Corey Adler

"...This film will rock you..."
-The Netziv

B E T H E R E O R D O N ' T . . .

No Steps Forward?

2006-02-22T20:22:00.000-06:00

I've accomplished a lot this week. Everything on my "To Do" list in fact. That's awesome, right? Somehow, it still leaves me feeling unaccomplished, and I think I know why. I have a tendency to shoot for very high dreams. But I have a tendency to be too busy to pursue them. And what am I so busy with? Well, I posted my pictures on my blog, had my car emissions tested, cleaned my room. In short, all the little nit-picky things that I guess have to be done. But get you no closer to your goals.

I've never liked working out for that same purpose. No matter how many weights you lift, you're only flexing those muscles so that you can lift more weights tomorrow. If you're a desk jockey like me, that workout won't get you closer to your goals.

You can spend an infinite amount of time on maintenance, but it only masks the wasted opportunity for growth. This is why successful people pay others to mow their lawns, clean their houses, cook their food. Not (necessarily) because they're spoiled and have nothing better to do with their money. They're doing more with their time. Instead of some charismatic guy trimming his hedges once a month just to keep them from overgrowing, he is off organizing a charity event, while some immigrant earns his keep.

And this is what I know I need to be. And why I'll never be satisfied crossing everything off my "To Do" list.

From the Mouths of Babes

2006-02-20T09:20:00.000-06:00

I used to be such a nice boy. I was polite and kind. My speech was always respectful and deferential. Now, I'm obnoxious. I'm loud and attention grabbing. My humor is biting and condescending. What happened to me?

I was raised well by my parents. They taught me how to be helpful, not to resort to name calling. By high school, this was the centerpiece of my identity. In my yearbook, one classmate listed me as Most Admired Person, while two others noted that I'd make a great husband someday.

Of course, they both have since married other guys. Guys who weren't reserved and waiting to be addressed. And I realize that one of the reasons I've adapted my personality is that nice people don't have friends. Or as the saying goes, nice guys finish last.

I'm not truly a jerk. I still don't mean to hurt a fly. But with sarcasm in and politeness out, I've learned that people might recognize pure behavior, but they don't want to be friends with it. They want the edge, they want the attitude. And so I've adapted. You wouldn't even recognize my personality if you knew me from high school.

I still only want to help others, but experience has taught me that gruff tactics are the only way to get close enough to help. I suppose people find a certail realistic approachability to the frank humorist which they don't identify with the pure angelic type.

I just don't know if the lesson I've learned is the way it should be, or if the world would be warmer if people turned down the character roasting.

Crazy Shtick

2006-02-13T20:47:00.000-06:00

Hope everyone enjoyed the photos. I know I put more of myself online than most people, but I hope to keep it up. I took a little heat for being so revealing, but truth be told, I think I only revealed my true self, so I don't really see any reason to hide that!

Putting up all those wedding photos reminded me of all of the craziness that surrounds (frum) weddings. In all the preparations, outfits, bands, food and other accessories, the actual simcha of starting a Jewish home often gets lost. I'm not just talking about the interfamily strife, the difficulty in getting all the details put together, or the overbearing expense of keeping up with even a modest affair.

I was at a wedding where two guests left because they weren't having a good time. This was an out of town wedding that they came in for, mind you. How many times have you heard people complain about the band? Or the lack of a sushi or another specialty table at the Shmorg?

Who do they think they are?

Even if they are joking, they definitely are feeding off the notion that the event is about them, not about the Chosson and Kallah. Why do you come home and critique the family's choice of colors, or who was honored at each Sheva Beracha?

Truthfully, the problem starts from those who praise these same aspects of the wedding. That's right, come home talking about how good the Viennese table was or how beautiful the bentchers were, and you too are feeding the frenzy. For you too have fallen into the trap that a wedding is just about that, the trappings. You may have liked it, but if you didn't?

At the next wedding, enjoy the endless energy of the dancing, the unforgettable smile on the groom's face, or the camaraderie of friends who have come together from near and far to share in something special. The most beautiful accoutrements money can buy can accent the most beautiful wedding, but once you strip a wedding of its meaning, there is no way to dress up the emptiness.

Shehechiyanu

2006-02-12T15:42:00.000-06:00

An important lesson in Judaism is to take the time to stop and recognize significant life-cycle events. I therefore have Hakaros Hatov to Hakodosh Boruch Hu for registering the 10,000th hit on my blog sometime before Shabbos. This also wouldn't be possible without my faithful public, so, Mom, when you read this, thanks for reading so often!

I took the time today to finally put together a place on my blog for the photos I've taken with my new digital camera. You can find the photo albums here.

To cap off my weekend, I'm making a triumphant return to Ebay. Now this is classic Why Josh Can't be Left Alone. Feel free to bid!

Renaissance Man

2006-02-08T21:23:00.000-06:00

I am not special. But I am a member of such a small club that's it's ridiculous. I'm not just talking about the Jewish people. This group is much more minute - the very fortunate group of knowledgeable, practicing, striving Jews. That's a tiny fraction of the world, and the Jewish people. And that's sad.

But sometimes we spend so much time analyzing this miniscule piece of humanity under a microscope that we lose an appreciation of how small the tip of the pyramid really is.

I look around at the friends I've gone to school with, and even among those, I'd still rank in the top percent. Again, I'm not inflating my own self worth. I merely look around in wonderment at where the people around me have ended up. Of my high school class, I'd say that less than half still keep Shabbos. I would be surprised if more than 20% of the guys I went to college with still daven with a minyan 3 times a day. Of the guys I learned in Israel, I'd say only 5% continue to learn at least an hour a day.

I hear that there aren't enough "frum" guys out there to support the frum female population. Is that the case? Based on what I've said above, that could be a true assertion. But what drives this phenomenon, this imbalance in the male/female frumkeit ratio? Why is it so skewed? I propose that this, not any social norm, is the real root of the "Shidduch Crisis."

How do we define "frum?" (And I'm not talking about superficial definitions.)

What is a "frum" guy? Not only must he look Jewish, with a Kippa and Tzitzis, which isn't easy in the working world, he must wake up early to pray, set aside time from work to pray, and push off exhaustion at the end of the day to pray. And he must shlep, if at all possible, to a Minyan. And whenever he is not working, or assisting with family duties, he must be studying Torah, with a chavrusa, a Rabbi, whomever. Even if we allow him the benefit of some personal time, he is expected to only value his Torah time. In addition to having enough knowledge to serve as a home-based halachic authority, these are the minimum requirements just to be considered frum, before even discussing other Mitzvos and the harder to measure things like Hashkafa, Bitachon, and Middos.

What is a frum girl? She should crack open a siddur at some point in the day, and should look good in a skirt. And be a good cook.

Now, I realize I'm being unfair. And am making generalizations. But how far off am I? I'm not saying that girls aren't frum or don't expend a lot of energy on their Avodas Hashem. I'm just pointing out that the measurements and expectations aren't as demanding.

What do girls want in a guy? They want either a guy who will learn all day, or a guy who will work and learn the rest of the day. In my mind, unfortunately, girls don't really understand what it means to be financially independent. They want a guy to learn full time, but they think that means they can keep up an ostentatious lifestyle. Or they assume that because their guy works, that Pesach in Miami grows on trees. The seminaries don’t help, telling you to look for something in a boy as if you can just pick one off the rack and head to the checkout. Yeah, it's good to want a frum guy to be a good influence in your home. But don't be fooled into thinking that just because you were told that a black hat and a certain Yeshiva were things to look for, that your world will be complete when you find that simple solution. Not that you don't deserve it, but there numerically aren’t that many of “those” guys out there, and “those” intense guys expect more for their money.

What do guys want? Even the "best" guys want surprising things. I can't tell you how many great learning and/or earning guys simply want a girl who is frum and "with it." They don't ask about her Middos, her Avodas Hashem. They want a girl who is pretty and funny. I'll admit, the desire to have an attractive girl is a blinding influence when you're dating, one I fear myself. But how many guys are looking for, and live up to the level of the Frum girls? Guys can't keep up with all the expectations that have been burdened on them by their schools, girls can. Then the girls come looking, and we're gone. Some girls drop down to the guys' level, whether out of despair or opportunity. The rest? Girls can only date older, so their choices are limited.

And this is where we have to look at the opening assumptions we bring into dating in order to address the "crisis." Frum people are looking for superficial things. As much as we bash the secular world, they tend to be far less superficial when choosing a spouse (yes, I'm not naive as to why). Not that we need emulate them, but we can learn from the basics. It shouldn't sound novel, but they marry because of love, common values, and personalities that "click." How often are these simple connections ignored in our community, even when we're not superficial? Sometimes we are so practical, so check list oriented on objective criteria, on whether it's "shayich," that we never give it a shot.

And this is my personal solution to the "Shidduch Crisis." There may be an imbalance between the frum guys and frum girls. But that doesn't mean, C"VSH, that you have to alternatively despair or "drop down a notch." You just have to look around and find that there are more frum people out there, if only you look at them differently. They may not meet the definitions you were taught, but they are ready to struggle. They just need your help, your dedication, your frumkeit, to push them the next step.

Finally, a Vacation

2006-02-05T20:47:00.000-06:00

Today was my first Sunday at home in five weeks. That's a good thing and a bad thing. On the plus side, I got a lot done. I cleaned my room (after unpacking and repacking for a trip every week, there was a lot of stuff that just never got put away), and even sorted through my (paper) files to get everything organized. Just like the Jews were rewarded for tearing down the houses they found when they entered Eretz Yisroel by finding treasures hidden in the walls, I was likewise rewarded for doing the dirty work. As I was shredding old pay stubs, I found a check still attached!

On the minus side, I was worried that a full weekend would leave me with a time vacuum that would have me busying myself online. Fortunately, the cleaning kept me pretty occupied, so while I did spend some time online, and found some Google Videos of note (keyword: Purim), I didn't go off the derech.

I didn't do everything I wanted today. I am trying to post all my pictures and videos from my last two trips online. I am still trying to find a non-bulky way to accomplish this. The trick is I want to be able to share them with all of you, so I don't want a service like Snapfish where I need to grant permission to people to view them. Right now, I'm looking at posting to the blog and Google Video, but this will take some time. Any ideas?

I also wanted to write some more posts, and finally start commenting on other blogs again, but alas, I didn't get that far. I guess this'll keep me busy for another week. I also have a few other items to take care of, response cards to fill out, checks to deposit. Just little errands. I should be able to take care of those during the week. So, all in all, a good weekend.

A few observations, once I'm writing. I have a fear of public bathrooms (toilet talk ahead for the rest of the paragraph - consider yourself warned). But not like that. It doesn't matter how much mold is growing from the ceiling, toilet paper stuck to the floor, bugs crawling up the pipes, or smell of rot coming from the walls. I'm afraid of people. Like somebody else coming in. If it's a a multi-person bathroom, I'll wait until I have privacy. If it's a one-person bathroom, I'm still afraid- I'll keep one foot on against the door, just in case the lock doesn't work. And if the bathroom is too big for that - forget it, I'll never relax. Yes, I do get stage fright. I guess I just follow Rashi in Mishlei - I learn Tznius (modesty) from the cat.

That of course, led me to think, what are my other fears? I do have recurring dreams about my teeth falling out. I probably wouldn't even think of that as a fear, had I not dated a girl that told me that she had similar dreams and this was her worst fear. I also am afraid of choking. I eat fish so slowly that it's easier just not to eat. I'm not really that afraid of that much. Oh yeah, there's also a fear of failure. That's a big one. That's why I'm always on the move. So I can feel like I can accomplish something, but usually whatever I'm doing doesn't have that much risk, unless somebody is pushing me. If there was one thing about me that I could work on, it would be this fear of failure. I know, everybody is afraid of failing to some degree. But it's my biggest handicap.

Finally, (I know I'm throwing a lot of topics into one- I'm cheating, trying to make it seem like I'm not posting too often, so nobody feels left out), would it make sense for me to shave my beard for a wedding? The way I see it, there is a definite importance of a Jew not shaving, ever. But this isn't the basic Mitzvah, just an extension. I don't think the average Yeshiva Bachur has an excuse to shave, but there are many good reasons to, such as getting a job. (I trimmed mine when I interviewed for my current job. But I walked in the first day and saw my boss had a longer beard then me. I haven't trimmed since.) But entertaining a bride and groom is a very important Mitzvah, greater than the idea of not shaving. So my logic tells me that if a bride and groom would get immense joy from me shaving, which in this case I think I would, then I should do it for them. Does my logic hold? I was thinking I should ask my Rabbi, but A) I think my logic is pretty true, and B) I think he would just laugh at me.

(As a side note, I don't think dating is an excuse to shave. I think that a Jewish girl should have an appreciation of the value of a man not shaving. I understand that she wants her husband to look good, but I see it like a kippah. It may not look good, but it's part of the uniform, so a frum guy shouldn't be judged by GQ standards. It's more complex than that, but I just want to put this out there for discussion.)

Hehe, you thought you were just getting an "How I spent my weekend" post. Sucker.

Just How Super?

2006-02-02T06:08:00.000-06:00

I hate sports. Not just dislike. At the last Cub's game I attended, I actually just wanted to get out of the stadium. I was once a fan (although I was never able to spit out miles of obscure trivia or statistics), but now I think that no matter who wins, we're all losers.

What's wrong with America's pastime? I once read an article, I believe in the Chicago Jewish News, about the historical criteria of Harvard University's admissions committee. From its founding, Harvard placed a premium on leadership attributes. Having gone through the whole college applications process once myself, I knew what this meant - clubs joined, student council positions held, work on newspaper, etc. It wasn't until the mid 20th century though that Harvard actually changed its direction, and started prioritizing students with superior intellectual abilities.

What? You didn't need a brain to get into Harvard? You could be a famous leader without a brain? I had always seen people like Albert Einstein as a hero; I wasn't aware that the world of the WASP had an entirely different notion until reading this article. (Yes, now I understand George Bush.)

But this is the same world that deifies sports. It is the leadership skills demonstrated in team sports that embody this leadership-framed ideal. But it is this utterly uncreative energy that turns me off to the world of sports. A home run in the bottom of the ninth? A last second touchdown? Are more people eating in Nigeria? Have any more kids learned to read? Why should I be impressed?

Sports is a fantasy world, a place for people to display their real talents - without accomplishing anything. To change the world is a proposition overwhelmingly filled with failure, so instead our culture runs to the stadium to see the microcosm of good vs. evil played out on grass. This simplified world is much easier to grasp, much easier to feel a winner.

But everyone is a loser. A world which places an athlete or rock star over a scientist is one without forward momentum.

This is my objection to frum people, whether they consider themselves modern or Yeshivish, whose lives revolve around sport schedules, tv shows, or People magazine. It's not assur, true. But the celebrities that are celebrated in that world aren't the models of growth that is central to every Jew's purpose. Why should we try and fill our day with empty victories and vain laughter when we have such a deep well of creative purpose to draw from?

I'm not saying that the only way to be frum is to learn torah all day. But to be frum means to submit to an ideal of growing closer to Gd every day. That inspiration can come from many sources, Jewish and non-Jewish. Are you finishing your prime-time TV with a better understanding of your spiritual connection to bring with you to davening or do you finish your davening to get back to your prime time TV? Wiling your time away with frivolous entertainment is the ultimate non-frum thing to do. You can be mekadesh (sanctify) Gd in many ways, including music and movies, but only if that is your goal - don't poison your mind deifying celebrity "accomplishments" instead of building your own.

Are you escaping or approaching?

Hakodosh Boruch Hu - Anachnu Ohavim Oscha

2006-01-30T21:57:00.000-06:00

I got back from the wedding exhausted. I went back to my married friends' apartment in Silver Spring, and, anticipating a dreadful day coming up, I got ready for bed as soon as possible, so that I could be up for my 3 AM alarm. Preparing for my early flight, I repacked my bag, Mapquested the route to the airport, and even checked in for my flight before jumping into bed, moves that would prove crucial the next day.

The sleep wasn't so great, despite the creature comforts of the bed. Having skipped the post wedding shower, I was covered in wedding juice, and I woke up at all hours of the night covered in fresh sweat. At one point, lying awake in bed, I finally glanced up at the clock, dismayed to see it read 1 AM - my precious hours of available sleep fading fast before I'd be back in front of my desk in Chicago.

Rolling and turning, I alternated between quick dreams and pondering the little amount of sleep I'd have in me the next day. After turning over and staring at the ceiling one too many times, I took another look towards the clock. 5:05 AM. 5:05 AM??? I overslept. I missed my flight. What was I going to do? I was going to be stuck in Washington DC all morning during the busiest day of the month at work. What was I going to tell my boss?

5:05 AM? Wait. My flight wasn't until 6 AM. I hadn't missed it yet. The plane was still at the airport. I was going to make it. I hopped out of bed, ran to the bathroom, changed into my work-clothes, and shoved my dirty laundry into the outside pocket of my hanging bag. I was ready to go, it was only 5:10, I still had a shot. I wasn't excited about skipping my morning shower, but surely I should worry about getting to Chicago first, and worry about getting that wedding off of me and being proper for work later, right?

I was out the door and went straight down to my rental car, throwing the suitcase in the passenger seat. I flipped through the armrest, the backseat, and the glove compartment for my Mapquest directions, before finding them on the sun visor. I took a minute to focus on understanding the route, figuring it better to start slow rather than drive in circles later. I reversed out of the spot, and saved the first two steps of the directions by taking a quick shortcut that I improvised.

The drive which Mapquest listed as 39 minutes would proceed in similarly miraculous fashion. Considering I had gotten lost on the Mapquest directions leaving the airport, I can't say how little faith I had in the piece of paper I carried in my left hand as I steered with the right. I focused on each next step on my directions, trying to go fast enough to make my flight, but slow enough to simultaneously read the map and stay in one lane.

Some of the turns were poorly marked, some not at all. But using the mileage between the steps, I was able to nail every turn, and I was making good time, if only I wouldn't blow it with some turn onto a highway to nowhere. I zipped along, finally reaching an area where the path to the airport was clearly marked. Pulling under the "Welcome to Reagan - Washington National Airport" at 5:35, I'll admit to having a grin on my face.

With my boarding card already in hand, all I had to do was get to the gate before the plane took off. I could do it. I screeched to a halt at the after hours car rental return, and jumped down an elevator to a waiting terminal shuttle. It was there waiting for passengers. I hopped on, and waited. We finally left the garage at 5:43. Not a big deal - I hadn't even checked in on the way to Washington until 15 minutes before departure - and I already had my boarding pass!

But I swear this bus driver couldn't go more than 5 mph. I quickly learned that I was in the last terminal, a painful distance away, since it took this driver two minutes to drive the thousand feet between stops, and another minute to wait for passengers to board (Board? At 6:00? There were no flights departing yet, let alone arriving!). We finally pulled up to my terminal at 5:53.

I hustled to the security checkpoint, but realizing that I didn't know which gate I was leaving from, hustled back to the departure monitor, to make sure that I would at least go through the right gate. There was no wait at security, and now it was just the distance between me and the gate holding me back. I hustled off at a slow sprint, suitcase in tow, as I sprinted the final distance. As I huffed passed the rest rooms, an airline employee coming my direction, stops and turns to me.

"Mr. Goldman?"

"Yes"

"You missed your flight. We put you on the next one."

And right there my hopes were crushed. I was upset. But I realized from the start that I wasn't angry at my situation or looking for somebody to fault. I was mad solely at the lost opportunity to have the best almost missed my flight story ever. "The 55-Minute Cinderalla Takeoff." It wasn't to be. Now I was just another bum who had overslept and missed his flight.

After taking a deep breath and staring at my plane sitting on the other side of the window, I went to the departures board to find out when this next flight would leave. I was relieved to see that it was at 7 AM, arriving at 8 AM, in plenty of time to get to work. I would not have to find an excuse to tell my boss as to why I was going to have to spend the day in Washington DC, so my neck was clean. Considering they announced 8,000 layoffs today, that was quite fortuitous. The time? 5:58 AM.

So in the end, I had to daven at work, but otherwise my schedule continued without missing a beat. I recognized from the start that make it or not, it was all in Gd's hands. Even more so, I realized that who knows how this played into the Larger plan. What could have happened had I made the earlier flight? Who knows what danger I might have been saved from, and who knows what my inconvenience might have been punishment for?

Most importantly, I learned that a shower in the bathroom sink at Reagan Airport does not in any way make up for the full body cleansing required after a wedding party. And I think every body around me learned that lesson as well.

Distractions

2006-01-26T21:32:00.000-06:00

One of the first feelings I had when I got to Israel was the inability to cry. I guess technically this would be a lack of feelings. I don't know why I noticed this - it wasn't like I was trying to cry. But I felt a swelling of emotion as I thought of my trip, and distinctly recall an inability to stir it any further. As I headed on my first vacation since starting to work 14 months ago, as I arrived at the Kotel, as I sat singing with my Yeshiva, as I visited the cemetery - such an overwhelming sense of powerful moments, but yet I was untouched.

This isn't a new phenomenon for me. I'm not sure if it's because I think too much instead of just letting myself feel. Nor am I sure, I guess, why it is that I think I should cry. Perhaps it's just an assumption I have from watching too much television. But no matter how much I attempt to tune in or tune out, it seems like the tears are just beyond my reach.

Unrelated (I think), the next observation I had was the tremendous difficulty posed to those studying in Jerusalem, especially during tourist season. While I had this same issue when I was studying there full time, it was even more acute when I was the tourist. Aside from the poor role modeling I did from taking the current students away from their studies, I was drawn away from my own attempts to dedicate some time to personal growth by the rush of American youth swarming the city's destinations. How could I sit quietly in the Beis Medrash when my peers were visiting the Kotel, shopping in Meah Shearim, and eating on Ben Yehuda or Emek Refaim?

Especially considering that many of these kids were friends that I hadn't seen in awhile. Or girls, a gender that I haven't seen in awhile. I wasn't sure which was the greater lost opportunity. At least at the time. As one blog commentator once put it, there is nothing more intriguing to a Yeshiva Bachur than the words "skirt" and "seminary." I guess I should be glad that at least in one measure I am still a Yeshiva Bachur. I really don't know how anyone can avoid the temptation of so many distractions. I guess once you do get over it, though, you've definitely reached a very high level.

I did have an interesting Sem Story (no, nothing to do with Elisheva- just a funny story involving two sem girls). Skipping the part about what I was doing talking to them, I had casually mentioned that one of the numerous ways that Yeshiva guys keep entertained is by playing a little game called "Name the Seminary." Pretty self-explanatory, just simple people-watching and stereotyping. So of course the girls get all excited and want me to guess where they went to seminary, like I was reading their future or something. Trust me, the game isn't really that exciting to outsiders. So anyways, I guessed where they went, and did a terrible job. That's not the purpose of the story. I guessed that one of the girls went to a school that, lets just say, doesn't have a stellar reputation. Why I didn't lie, I'm not sure. But I'm an honest guy, so I went with my gut, and threw out the name of this party school. So, um, the girl was insulted. (Her friend thought it was hysterical, though!)

My point is this - if you look a certain way, people make judgments, right or wrong. While you shouldn't dress a certain way just to please people, I do think that how you choose to present yourself does play a very real affect on you, in a "self-fulfilling prophecy" sort of way. So while others shouldn't go around judging you based on how you dress (other than those playing "Name the Seminary"), I do think that we have to be honest about what we are conveying about ourselves. We can use this in a positive or a negative manner. If we dress like role models above us, people who we want to be like, we will be more conscious about deserving that status. And if we dress like role models below us, we may achieve that status as well. So while my failure in "Name the Seminary" might not have accurately portrayed this girl's present, it may have betrayed her future. I'm not talking about people who dress outside the box, just the values that are exposed in our external appearance.

Finally, I'll be flying to Silver Spring for a wedding tomorrow. The bad news is that this means that I'll be away from Blogland for the rest of the weekend. The good news is that if anyone is in DC, we can meet up in the Real World. (David, I tried calling your cell, but I must have an old number. Give me a call in the morning.)

Cold Flight

2006-01-25T18:27:00.000-06:00

One of the great things about flying to Israel is that the whole experience is just one potential blog post after another.

On my flight over, I had my long time prayers answered. I was actually seated next to the attractive frum girl I saw boarding on my flight. This reminded me of a number of issues recently addressed in the comments section of Semgirl's Blog, whether the frum world would be better off if guys and girls just went up to each other and initiated conversation. I'll ignore my opinion for the moment, and just present the case study. Sitting next to this girl for a few hours, I tried to initiate conversation three
times, but was given cold looks each time. I finally resigned to shmoozing with the Yeshivish guy across the aisle, who gave me more warmth.

I don't know if this girl was just too frum to talk to me. Or maybe she was worried that other people would see her talking to me. Or maybe she thought I would think it untoward to be spoken to by a single girl (of course, I was addressing her...). Or maybe she thought I was a murderous stalker. But how can we even speak about whether boys and girls should let down the barriers a little bit, if this girl wouldn't even take advantage of the opportunity given her?

For the record, this girl had tons of makeup on, and wasn't exactly dressed "frumpy." In my mind that at least means that she wants attention. I wasn't hitting on this girl, so it wasn't like there was any pressure. It was just the friendly banter of two people trapped in a small space for a long time.

Was I wrong? Or did she just not know how to deal with the situation?

Further, on my return flight, I was stuck at a European airport for a few hours on a layover with (B"H) a young frum girl from my flight. I approached her at one point, but she didn't invite me to sit down, so instead the only two frum people in this airport sat on opposite ends of the terminal. Now I could have been more direct. And maybe I just need better ice-breaking lines (I guess, "do you know what gate we're leaving from" doesn't say "let's shmooze"). I do believe that these casual interactions are very harmless and can have healthy effects- aside from learning how to deal with the opposite gender, you never know who might be right for each other - people have friends!

So if there is a reason to take advantage of informal co-ed interaction, how are we actually supposed to implement it with so many unspoken barriers in place?

Transition

2006-01-24T19:31:00.000-06:00

I still have a lot to say following my trip, and I'm not sure how I can squeeze it all in without seeming forced. Unfortunately, I think I will have to discuss multiple subjects in each post, and may write more often than usual in order to catch up. I'm not a spiritual person, I'm very grounded. So my head being in the clouds is weird, and I have to get used to that as well. I just hope that I get used to living in the clouds, rather than the clouds blowing away. I hope my long Shemona Esrei is here to stay.

One of the awkward issues that arose in Israel was the number of friends who told me that they read my blog - and thought it was weird. Or rather, that I was weird. I'm comfortable with them having their opinion, I'm not going to hide myself from anyone. I say what I want to, what I believe, and I'm not ashamed. (Although I did think of one thing that finally made me consider whether I could discuss it, or whether anonymity would have been the only way to let totally loose. Still an unresolved matter at this point.)

One of the most surprising adjustments coming back is my almost unnatural fear of the internet. I'm not from Lakewood, but I know why it was banned. All day at work today, I feared coming home to the internet, fearful for how I might misuse it. I carefully timed my schedule, so that I'd be online for the least possible time. It'll definitely cut into blogging, but I don't want to waste time. I don't want to fall into the same old traps. I'm looking to start a night seder now, and pretty much anything that will keep me away from the computer and myself.

When I arrived in Israel, I was "read" four different girls in my first 5 hours there. I'm not sure what about my vacation said "I'm a dating machine," but it was nice that they thought of me at least. I went out with two girls, but I'm not sure if it was a good idea. It was a distraction from my learning for the week, and it didn't give me much more focus than on a random dating weekend in New York. Sometimes I think I should only go out with people that have been carefully screened, but other times I feel like I should just leave myself open to whatever Gd's plan may be. I want to get married. But I haven't found anyone interesting yet. Perhaps I'm not mature yet. Or don't know exactly what I'm looking for yet. I could "connect" with anyone, but I'm still picky. I don't want to wake up annoyed in ten years from having married a small minded woman. I'm just looking for frum, open minded, out of the box, willing to follow the truth wherever it is, even if it flies in the face of "normalcy," low maintenance, easygoing, good sense of humor, relates well to all types of people, good looking, middos, and ambition - this is what I usually find lacking. I have no problem with women being stay at homes or teachers, but at least be passionate about it, not just heading there by default. Have some scope beyond self and family to building the world at large.

I get the feeling that I didn't accomplish what I wanted with this post. But perhaps I did, as I think I'll be ready to address actual topics tomorrow. I apologize if my writing is disorganized, offensive, or cryptic, but I want to get off the computer as soon as possible.

For Better or Worse - I'm Back

2006-01-23T18:26:00.000-06:00

No, I didn't disappear and get a "real" life. I haven't turned my back on the blog world. For those that noticed, I just got back from a week and a half in Jerusalem. Yes, without access to anything more than basic email. I have so much to say, and I'm not sure how I will say it all, without wearing down your attention.

Without going off into too many tangents (ie, the numerous idealogical issues I considered on my trip), here is the quick update. I spent my time in Yeshiva, split between studying and socializing (hey, I'm honest). I am ready to make a siyum, I went out with some girls, and met some great guys. I have tons of pictures, and hopefully memories that sunk in.

I prayed at the Kotel for many people, including many blog friends as well. I used a simple formula - that each one should discover the role Gd has in mind for them, succeed in fulfilling it, and find happiness in their destiny.

And now I'm back. I don't know what that means, practically or emotionally. I'm back at home and back at work. I have tried to catch up on reading other blogs, although it's overwhelming. I will take things as they come, and try and keep as much of Jerusalem here- as much as I can, as long as I can. I'm not good at describing the intangible, but all I can say is the incredible emptiness I feel now is amazing. The vacuum of purpose is so overpowering, my yetzer hora is in paradise.

And so the struggle begins again.

Stirring the Soul

2006-01-09T21:31:00.000-06:00

I apologize for my weekend absence. I enjoyed a wonderful weekend in Memphis, TN for a wedding. Between Graceland, Beale Street, and the Stax Museum of Soul Music, I really got the 24 hour tour of this musical city. I myself don't really enjoy listening to music that much, but I was still struck by how serious a role music plays in the cultural fabric down there.

On a related note, with all the attention being given to the "emerging" trend of Jewish music videos (a la Lipa and David Lavon), I thought it was important to take a step back and acknowledge what I consider the inspirational granddaddy of all Jewish music videos. Many of you may already have seen this, but you can never really have too much.

(Warning: May not be suitable for those with taste)

A Full Year of Insanity

2006-01-05T21:19:00.000-06:00

January 6th - a day that will live in infamy. Exactly one year ago, I revived this blog, taking it from a simple school project to a significant measure of my self-expression. 150 posts later, I've past the trial phase, the exhaustion phase, the addiction phase, and all the other ups and downs that cut off many bloggers prematurely.

I entered the blogosphere approximately three years ago, as a pure spectator on the smorgasbord of Jewish life that was Protocols. Like that sites ultimate passing, I too left the blogosphere. However, after Googling somebody one day, I rediscovered our old class blogs. I don't know what struck me, but I decided to see what I could make of it. I figured blogging would be a great outlet for my writing. I've always enjoyed writing, and I've always enjoyed observing, and I've always enjoyed critical analysis. And so it was, I began posting, but it was two months before I received even one comment (Not that it would have done anything - I didn't even know how to view them at the time).

But something happened one day. I received a comment from Semgirl. I didn't know who Semgirl was, and I didn't know how she had found my blog. But I eventually clicked through her profile into a whole world of Frum blogs. I became a silent reader, enjoying both the candid moments of anonymous lives, as well as the spirited debates that often raged in the comment sections.

Eventually, I journeyed into the world of adding my comments to the experiences of others, and this in turn brought many other readers into my own. Even before I learned the professional art of attention whoring, I slowly began to create two-way relationships - learning the personalities of other bloggers, as we reciprocally peered into each other's innermost thoughts.

And it is that relationship that embodies my blogging motivation nowadays. With all the benefits of expression aside, the blogosphere has truly evolved into a community for me. It's not hard to see that I gravitate towards bloggers with similar interests, albeit from very different backgrounds. And so on this first anniversary, I want to thank you, not for merely dignifying my blog with your presence, put for your friendship. May we share many more years getting to know each other (and may we meet in person)!

Discriminating Taste

2006-01-04T18:08:00.000-06:00

I learned something new at shul. I discriminate. I hope not outwardly, but I do in my heart. There is this Sefardi guy who is very, very dark, and, well, not so attractive. But I saw him sitting with all the "Movers and Shakers" laughing up a storm. And all I could think of was, what's he doing with them?

And then I realized why I should be ashamed. Not because I wasn't giving him the opportunity to stand on his own merits. Because I was trying to avoid standing on my own merits! The underlying message of his acceptance was, "people do succeed because of ability, and aren't held back by such intangible factors as discrimination." But if he succeeded in the face of such odds, than why haven't I?

It's comfortable believing that I've been held back by the illogical likes, dislikes, and other whims of man. But if he overcame them, then I should have as well! And it's my own failure that keeps me wanting to believe in discrimination. So if I discriminate against him as well, then I can assure that the system of discrimination is kept alive and well, preserving a much more comfortable facade for my own failure.

Guys Have Feelings Too

2006-01-04T07:42:00.000-06:00

There are some emails you just can't send. But that doesn't mean you can't blog them...

There are all different kinds of friends.

No matter where time has taken us, every time I think of you a lump forms in my throat. I promised myself that I wouldn't make you cry, I'd cut out the sentimental emails. I know our relationship had a lot to do with shidduchim, but it was more than just setting each other up- you were the kind of best friend that I could trust, open up to, feel comfortable with. I wish a professional "shadchan" relationship wasn't the only avenue for keeping our relationship open.

But that doesn't mean that I don't have feelings that I wish I could express. Truth be told, I remember very little of the relationship that we had. But as the mind fades, the heart remains just as vibrant. We met a year and a half ago, and probably haven't seen each other for almost a year. You'd think you wouldn't mean anything to me, or at least would have faded into distant memories. But every time I hear your name, see you online, my breath deepens, my chest swells. Even hearing about your simchas brings tears to my eyes.

Your chosson must know you're special. If I feel the way I do, I can only imagine how close you two must feel. I know in our community there is no room for a continued friendship. I don't understand why.

But despite the vacuum I feel today, I'd never give up the friendship we had and everything I gained from you. Whenever I hear about you, I will always cry inside. Always keep in touch.

The Local Dating Scene

2005-12-31T20:34:00.000-06:00

Back in a prior post, BlogBlond offered to set me up with another blogger/commenter, Photochick. Yes, I actually took it seriously, but I have yet to tell the story- until now. Due to contractual obligations, I was unable to follow through with my intent of a play-by-play of the whole process. However, at this point I can bring you up to date.

PC and I spoke on the phone three times. We had nice, long conversations, but due to the geographical gap, have decided not to actively pursue anything at this time. Perhaps if in the future either of us finds ourselves travelling through the other's city, we will meet up. Even though there wasn't anything incompatible between us, there wasn't necessarily anything strong enough to justify long distance travel. And since I could just flirt ad infinitum without advancing a relationship, it wouldn't be worthwhile to make anyone travel to get in a situation that basically never got past Step 1. It's not that I expect love from a first conversation, but when it comes specifically to long distance dating, I think you need to start with some level of eagerness so that you can get past the hurdles of a relationship where you may only see each other every few weeks, at best.

On a separate but related note, I've written before about the trials of dating somebody out of town. But I never discussed the tribulations of dating somebody in the same city. And for good reason - I never have. I have never dated another Chicagoan.

This past week Chicago announced that it will offer $2,000 to any Shadchan who successfully sets up a Chicago girl, a program patterned after a similar one instituted in Baltimore last year. When I heard this, I couldn't help but wonder- if I've been in Chicago and never been set up with another Chicagoan, the system must be broke!

I was talking with another, older single girl in Chicago, and when I mentioned that I regularly flew to New York to date, and had never dated locally, she was shocked. Actually, that isn't strong enough. She was upset, even angry, at me. How could I overlook the local girls, who have a small enough dating pool as it is?

Of course, my attention grabbing self latched onto this argument. I mean, who am I to deprive the young women of Chicago from having the opportunity to date me? That's cruel and unusual punishment, withholding such a prize specimen from such eager and unknowing fans. So I've decided to get more active, and put my name out there.

Once I hit the market, I'm pretty sure they'll see the error of this $2,000 prize. They've created a monster.

2005-12-29T20:02:00.000-06:00

Caption Contest - Name the Simcha...

For the Love of Torah

2005-12-27T21:12:00.000-06:00

I studied at Yeshiva University, a Modern Orthodox institution alternatively called too left-wing or too right-wing, depending on where you stand. It doesn't feature the focus and commitment of the entire student body for those used to a more typical yeshiva environment, and it doesn't force its students to engage the world at large for those more comfortable in a traditional university environment.

When I read Ben's blog, I am reminded of many of my critiques of YU. I was in YU when Yeshivat Chovevei Torah first opened. I was also in YU when current President Richard Joel was hired. My reaction to both events was a bitterness towards a knee-jerk embrace of modernity without tradition as its starting point. But as my disdain and caution remain for these bastions of liberality, my jealousy and envy grow as I watch their accomplishments.

Reading about Chovevei's trip to New Orleans, or even some of Richard Joel's more open minded gestures, such as formal YU participation in the pluralistic Federation General Assembly reminds me of all the opportunities that traditional Jewish sources have neglected.

One of the larger and more Modern Orthodox synagogues in my neighborhood has been interviewing for an Assistant Rabbi widely seen as a successor to the long time senior Rabbi. YCT and YU have both sent graduates of their respective programs, and the one reaction I see to the YU Rabbis is that, no matter how talented they may be, they stick out like a sore thumb.

It's not a matter of Hashkafa. The strengths of YCT and even Edah that I've seen have nothing to do with where they fall in the religious spectrum. But they have an energy and creativity in bringing their Rabbis into the community at-large. To be fair, YU is a large, bureaucratic organization, and its Rabbinical school is a forgotten vestige. YCT is the nimble youth, able to quickly seize opportunities.

The New York Modern Orthodox community is every bit as much "ghettoized" as its Chareidi counterpart. But to be relevant outside the Tri-State area, you have to be familiar and ready to lead people who live outside a Jewish box. I just hope that Torah doesn't get lost in the shuffle.

My Little Princess

2005-12-25T19:09:00.000-06:00

Chanukah is a time that we really celebrate Jewish identity more than any other holiday. It is a festival dedicated, not "for the rest of us," but specifically towards the ability of the Jewish people to stick together for so many years. In the face of Greek assimilation, the Maccabees retained enough pride to bring the Jewish nation back to prominence. It is in this spirit that one of the Rabbi's at the Skokie Community Kollel, Rabbi Yakov Kreisman, spoke of the inherent contradiction in any attempts to bridge the gap between Chanukah and other holidays that fall out around the same time of year.

But I'm not about to start off on yet another Chrismukkah rant. Aside from having been extensively covered this holiday season, it isn't the most pressing "assimilation" issue that I've seen recently. It's easy to look at a holiday and say, "That's their holiday, this is our holiday." Preserving your heritage is easy when you look at overtly religious distinctions. It is cultural nuances and societal mores, however, that can be more subtle, and one-hundred times more pervasive. In reality, it is the phenomenon of raising "Princesses" that has increasingly attracted my ire.

I don't know where the notion came from that every little girl should be treated with cotton gloves, primped and spoiled to produce only the finest, delicate and worthless human being imaginable. I have nothing against beauty and refinement, but I certainly don't see them as ends unto themselves. But yet American girls seem to be raised that if only they can be gorgeous caricatures of fairytale princesses, they will have validated their existence. That makes me sick. Women have plenty more to contribute to this world than their looks, and never challenging them to use their abilities certainly stunts their character growth.

And unfortunately, this has seeped into the Frum community. While the JAP isn't native to the religious world, the Orthodox have certainly adopted her as their queen. Girls from the Modern Orthodox to the Chassidiche communities are brought up to be married off. They are sent to polishing schools, and are expected to excel in those same superficial measures as the non-Jewish world. Unfortunately, the independent young woman with much real ability to offer the world is usually shoved to the periphery of the Shidduch market, seen as too risky a catch for the best guys.

Feh. Of all the things to assimilate. Merry Chanukah.

A Priest, a Rabbi, and an Imam walk into a bar...

2005-12-20T21:29:00.000-06:00

...The bartender looks up and says, "Is this some kind of joke?"

I love humor, and I hate political correctness. But I'm not sure what my stance is on ethnic jokes. When you think about it, the underlying stereotypes are the building blocks of sectarian discrimination. But on the other hand, they're dang funny!

Humor can be a very therapeutic process. In this vein, ethnic jokes should have their positive aspects. After all, various cultures often have very real, very distinct personalities to them. While not necessarily applicable to every last member of a specific tribe, on the whole such observations may be valid.

And if a joke is based on scientifically noted differences between sociological groups, doesn't poking fun at the differences help bring them to the fore of our consciousness and serve as a vehicle of questioning long-established quirks? If Jewish men are submissive, can't a punch line wake us up? If lawyers are seen as slimy, shouldn't a one-liner keep them on the up-and-up?

But who is the audience? Between two members of the culture, the self-depreciative humor can be uncomfortable, but possibly constructive as we analyze whether we fall into this same pitfall. Between one member of the culture and outsiders, this humor can be awkward, as regardless of the tribesman's own character, the jokester's motivations can be hard to ascertain, and defensiveness can overwhelm the conscience. And within a group of outsiders making light of another culture, the joke seems simply offensive.

As I began writing this, I didn't think I could come to a conclusion on whether ethnic jokes have their place or not. But as I continued, I slowly saw the fine line unravel between the positive and negative outcomes. It is similar to Tochecha- rebuke in Jewish law. When trying to point out flaws in another's actions, there is a fine line between constructive and destructive words. Seemingly the same statement could have both effects, and we are enjoined to be careful in our words and use our own judgement as to whether a productive influence could be had by our interjection.

If there is any positive benefit to ethnic jokes, isn't it self-improvement? This then would be the limiting factor in when a joke is a joke, and when it's Lashon Hora - slander. There is no fixed rule. It's up to your subjective judgement. But keep in mind that telling that great Polish joke is no different than telling some embarrassing story about your friend.

But I'm still not fully sure. What do you think defines good taste? Am I reading too much into things? When does laughter stop and sensitivity start?

I'm not equating ethnic jokes with Lashon Hora, just comparing them. There are still plenty of ways to be humorous without indicting any specific group of people. There's always Chelm...

Torah? From Me?!?

2005-12-17T20:13:00.000-06:00

I went to a Tisch for High School boys Friday night. Good times on an early Shabbos. Silly kids...they asked me to speak. So here is a reworked version of the Dvar Torah I gave.

There is a famous joke, "Why did the Jews wander in the desert for 40 years? Because somebody dropped a quarter."

It seems that this stereotype is based in this week's Torah portion. The Torah mentions that after Yaakov crossed over the river with his family in order to face his brother Eisav, he remained alone for the night. The Midrash asks, if he crossed the river with his family, how could he have been left alone? The Midrash concludes that Yaakov returned to the first bank of the river in order to retrieve "Pachim K'tanim - small vessels," and remained there alone for the night. Was Yaakov really so cheap, the forefather of the generalization of Jewish cheapness? What was the value of such small vessels on the eve of such a pivotal moment in Jewish History in general, and Yaakov's life in particular?

Even more troubling is that the traditional commentaries applaud Yaakov's decision and hold it up as an example for future generations. Is cheapness then a Jewish ethos?

I read this week in The Tzedakah Treasury a comparison between King David's plans for the first temple in Jerusalem, and the rededication of the second temple by the Chashmonaim at the time of Chanuka. King David gathered gold and silver from around his kingdom and set it aside for use in the temple that he hoped to build. He reserved the finest treasures of his empire for the sole purpose of glorifying Gd's name. There was one problem, however. During his reign, the land of Israel suffered from a terrible drought. Starvation was rampant. Despite the extreme poverty, King David held onto his wealth for use in the temple. The Midrash learns that it was this mistaken priority that served as one of the reasons that King David was never able to see the glory and splendor of the temple in his lifetime.

The temple of the Chashmonaim was different, however. Most notably, at the time of the Maccabee's rededication of the temple, a wooden Menorah was used. As times improved, the Menorah was slowly upgraded, until a solid gold Menorah was again used. But the question was asked, why didn't they start with a gold Menorah? As the conquering power, surely they had enough resources to properly build the temple! The answer is that although they could have afforded it, the Chashmonaim recognized that the daily needs of the Jewish people take precedence over ceremonial objects. They first channeled the nations wealth towards alleviating poverty, and only later directed the excess towards the temple accoutrements.

What separated the Chashmonaim from King David? What knowledge did they have above that of the Psalmist? The Chashmonaim recognized the value of everything. They realized that money isn't a means of displaying accomplishment, but a method of achieving it. The secret of the Maccabees was that they knew that a little money goes a long way when used correctly.

We see this in one of the central miracles of Chanukah. After regaining independence for the Jewish people, the Chashmonaim find only one "Pach Shemen - vessel of oil" left to light the Menorah. Just like Yaakov in this weeks Parsha, the Chashmonaim knew the power of even the smallest amount of material wealth. That same small "Pach" wasn't disregarded, viewed as unnecessary. And when even the small things are valued, they go a long way. The same spirit that saw that gold should be invested in people, not tributes, didn't overlook a dusty, forgotten container in the temple courtyard.

And now we can see why Yaakov was lauded for returning for such immaterial items. Far from being cheap, he simply realized the value of even the smallest possession that Gd had blessed him with. The Commentaries meant to instill this value, not cheapness, as one of the highest ethics of the Jewish fabric.

If one "Pach" of oil can last eight days, how much was accomplished with the "Pach" that Yaakov might otherwise have left behind? And how many "Pachim K'tanim - small vessels" are there in our lives that go unappreciated? We should not only be thankful for the smallest blessings, but realize that like the miracle of Chanuka, we have the potential to turn them into limitless gifts for others.

Editorial Update: I checked back on The Tzedakah Treasury quote, and it was way off. The story unfolded very differently, although the moral lesson was the same. I encourage you to open the book to learn the actual occurence of events.

I Love Money

2005-12-14T20:03:00.000-06:00

It seems like a politically incorrect statement, as if I'm just materialistic or self-centered or something. But is there really something wrong with loving money?

For some people they are gathering money because they want to blow it on the world's biggest yacht, or go vacation in five-star resorts. There is nothing money could buy that I want.

Others are in a race to outdo their neighbors, prove themselves, or control others. I couldn't care about what anybody else has relative to myself.

But I still want to amass a fortune of money in my lifetime. I want to make money hand-over-fist, and I don't want to stop until the day I die.

Why?

What is money? When one person does something of value to another person, he receives payment for his action in cash, based on the relative value of the benefit. If I give my neighbor a haircut, he gives me $5 in recognition of the benefit I've done for him. If I do his taxes, he'll give me $100, since I've really given him a good deal. And everyone that does something for me, such as gives me a hot hamburger, will be rewarded for helping me out.

So you get dollars for doing, producing, acting on behalf of others, and you pay money when you rely on other's to provide for you. So the more you produce in excess of what you consume, the more dollars you will have. Meaning that the more you do for others over and above what they do for you, the more you will have in your bank account, but also you have a measurable sum of how much of an impact you have had on those around you.

No wonder I hate receiving gifts. You'd think everyone loves getting something for nothing. But the way I see it, it just means you're going into debt. You're being taken care of by others instead of taking care of them.

Not that you need to benefit others for the reward, to count how much they need you. But if those piles of money mean I've spent my life toiling so that other's could enjoy life, then I'll take pride in what I've gathered.

If the pursuit of money is irrational, then it will never bring joy. Money is the representative of an orderly world, and those that chase it as if it alone will solve their problems will never find happiness. But if you understand what money is, and what it does, then it is one of the best gifts you can ever attain.

Bobbing for Apples

2005-12-10T21:17:00.000-06:00

I haven't turned my back on the dating world. My last post gave some readers the impression that either dating is not a priority for me, or that I have otherwise given up the whole enterprise as a failure. Not so. Well, not totally. I mean, I definitely haven't been successful. And I definitely don't put it at the top of my To Do list. But it is certainly not a forgotten endeavor.

There is a certain factor at the root of my predicament, namely that I am in Chicago. Skipping too much background, there is a basic issue of long-range dating that gets in the way. Yes, I've done it before. But I have found traveling for dates to be wholly ineffective. And quite possibly a bad idea as well. Sure, it gives me an opportunity to at least keep my skills fresh. And I hate to disappoint the ladies by not providing equal opportunity to young women around the country to get to go out with me ('cause I'm that good...). But it just doesn't work.

Maybe I'm just too immature, but I find that the time pressures of traveling are simply not conducive to making life-long decisions. Knowing I have three days to determine if one woman (OK, I'll admit it, up to three) would be a suitable companion and mother of my children is just not realistic. Couple that pressure with the logistical arrangements and other social obligations, and I just can't do it all in one weekend. Inevitably, knowing my limitations, I simply make a call based on my first impression (I mean first minute, not first date), and then treat the rest of the weekend as a wasted trip.

I don't want anyone to walk away from this thinking that I don't take dating seriously, or that the people I've gone out with weren't great people. But the amount of energy I had to get to know them just wasn't there. Maybe it would take two weeks to find out that somebody has the qualities I'm looking for, but they are just deeper below the surface. But in my haste, I cut them off and never give them that chance.

Again, maybe it's just me, and I'm not mature enough. Or perhaps the scenario is intrinsically unconquerable. But for the meantime, I don't have any plans to continue traveling for dates. I've learned my lesson. I'd rather stay single than treat some girl unfairly.

The Single Life

2005-11-30T20:10:00.000-06:00

I don't know why I haven't addressed the seemingly obvious topic of marriage until now. By the "topic of marriage," I don't mean whether I'm in favor or opposed to the institution. I vote, "Aye." But I never just discussed its relevance to me, today. I'm 25 and single. In some worlds that's ancient, in others still childish. But in the world in my head, I'm right on track. And, yes, I'll tell you why.

I am not interested in marriage. At least not right now. I have nothing against it, far from it. But it is not a goal of mine. Mainly because I'm not sure how it could be a goal. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to have a special someone in my life. But there is a big difference between "being married" and "finding your soulmate." Anyone can get married, but no amount of effort can guarantee you find the person who complements you.

It's not that I don't want to be married. If I meet the right person today, I have no problem settling down tomorrow. But in focusing my efforts, I'd rather build a career. That is within my power. I can work towards that goal. But marriage is different. If you get consumed by a marriage search, or define yourself in terms of your marital status, you cheat yourself of accomplishment. It'll be great if you get married. It will build your potential. But shutting out your own growth to lock in a spouse is like spending your life searching for the fountain of youth - the prize may be golden, but you can waste your strength going in circles when instead you could be making small strides.

As I was thinking of this issue, I thought of a scenario that left me uncertain. I know a friend who went to a Rabbi, and was blessed to get married within a year. And voila, he is engaged (B"H). If my friend took me to this same Rabbi, and the Rabbi turned to me and asked, "What shall I bless you with, finding your bashert or success in your professional life?" I don't know which I would choose.

Technical Stuff

2005-11-29T21:18:00.000-06:00

FYI - I'll be in New York this weekend, so don't expect to see me online (in accordance with my travel blogging policy - I don't fly out to visit real people only to spend my time in front of a computer). If anyone will be in Manhattan, shoot me an email.

Also - and this is exciting stuff - I'm working on my first template changes in a year. Nothing seriously different, really. But I am plannig on adding a blog roll. I know, so 2004. I was afraid of the "who got left out" reaction, but I figured, I'm getting too old to remember which blogs I read, so I need a portal. Let me know if I leave any out!

Old Friends: An Update (By Special Request)

2005-11-27T19:25:00.000-06:00

As I was preparing to finish the story that began in my previous post, I realized that before I could end with an epilogue, I should really start with a prologue.

It would be an understatement to be saying "old friends" were coming to town. That might be an expression you'd use if some guys that you were once in a few classes with happened to be on a vacation in your area. Most likely you'll run into them unexpected at some local eatery, slap each other on the back, laugh over the "Good 'ol days", and then go your separate ways. The first thing you'll do is try and remember that guys name.

But in my case, these weren't just guys that I had some past experiences in common with. These guys were my past. When I moved to Chicago when I was 6, we all went to school together. There was a group of seven guys, and we did everything together. A lot of it probably was practical. Our parents probably appreciated having a consistent circle for carpools and after school babysitting. But when the same group of seven guys have all of their birthday parties together, go to the same camp, play on the same Little League teams, and go to school through 8th grade together, there's bound to be not just a few memories, but some formative experiences. I had a joint Bar Mitzvah with two of the guys in Israel. I spent two different summers with the families of two of these guys in Israel. These guys were part of the moments that have shaped who I am today, even if can't pinpoint them.

But things change. One of the guys made Aliyah to Israel with his family in 5th grade. I wrote him a letter everyday, which gradually become a less frequent endeavor. One of the guy's parents got divorced, and he moved in with his dad and transferred to another school. Another boy moved to California, where summer visits would be our annual reunion. Then came High School. I went to a different school than everybody else, and our lives slowly diverged. There would be the official get togethers that became more and more infrequent. Eventually, the random neighborhood run-in became our most common catch-up time.

By the time college came, we had very little in common. At least one of us seemed to be in with the "wrong" crowd, and we had all developed extra-curricular interests that varied considerably more than our Little League days. We were in different cities, and never saw each other, period. Of the entire group, I ran into one of them once at a wedding in Israel, but other than that, we had completely lost touch since high school.

When one of the guys died suddenly in college, I was reminded of how much of my earlier years had vanished. I was in another city at the time, and rather than reconnect me with my past, I felt the isolation even more. I wrote a letter to his parents, telling them how important a friend he had been, even though I hadn't seen him in years.

And that takes us to this past Thanksgiving Day. Seeing these guys all over the internet made me proud. But it also made me nervous. Did I really have anything in common with these guys any more? Guys aren't so sentimental. Would they appreciate all that had been, all that we had missed?

I didn't tell anyone in my family about the game or about my plans to go. I had enough built up expectations that I didn't want to let anyone else down. The game was at noon, but I was dreading going. Would I have anything to say to them? Would they recognize me? We had all changed considerably over the years.

I fell asleep at 10:30 AM, and I'll admit, I was hoping that if I just slept through the game, I could chalk it up as out of my control, and let the whole thing just have been some interesting tidbit in the news. I woke up, and looked at the clock relieved when I saw the clock read 1:30. I relaxed a bit, thinking I could hide from my past by inaction. But I passed into another room, and saw that it was only 12:30 (I keep my travel clock on New York time). Realizing that the inevitable had been ordained, I got dressed and finally told my parents my plans as I was leaving.

I drove down to the field, but didn't see any game. There were many cars, and a few people, but, most noticeably, an empty field. I could've asked one of the people I passed where the game was, but I felt embarrassed to be seen, to ask not for a football game but for a reunion, as if I was a fugitive trying to escape from my past. I circled twice, doing my duty, and left the park, too ready to evade the encounter. After all, wouldn't it be easier to just let my friends stay as they were in my photographs than have to come up with something to say to them?

I left the parking lot, but decided that I should try another park, so that I wouldn't go home without at least having a decent attempt to report. The other park was absolutely empty, so I knew that the game wasn't there. It was 1:30 by this time, and the game would be nearing its conclusion. But strengthened with the added comfort that the game might be over before I could show up, I decided to try the original location one last time. Did I really want to be known as the guy who avoided his old crowd?

As I pulled up, I noticed another field tucked nearly underneath a highway overpass, with a few dozen freezing cold stick figures running around. I hesitantly parked, with the realization that there was no avoiding it anymore. I would face my old friends. What scared me, I realized, was not that I was running from my past. I was paralyzed by uncertainty about the present. It was a given that this moment would be awkward. How could it not? We hadn't seen each other in ten years, they didn't know to expect me, and they were in the middle of a sports contest! We probably had less in common today than when we had last seen each other, and the freezing cold field wasn't the ideal setting to rekindle past warmth.

But the most apprehensive aspect of the moment was the role of memory. In my mind, we were best friends, sharing everything. If now we were to greet as awkward strangers, the rosy looking-glass backwards would be shattered by reality. Did I want to ruin the frozen picture of my childish innocence by forcing it to confront the hard reality of the present?

As I walked onto the field, I tried to pretend that I was just there as a random Jew showing up for a queer cultural spectacle, removed from the characters themselves. I arrived at the sidelines, and was promptly greeted with a wave from the field by a face I couldn't recognize. Then, on the sidelines, some of the other spectators turned around, and I was caught finally in the reality that I was here. It was one of my friend's family, and fortunately I recognized them. I caught up quickly with them, but they were just leaving the game, so I didn't have to make conversation for too long.

The weather was brutally cold, and I was unprepared. Fortunately, the game was called early (the Jews won 21-0, for those keeping score). But now the inevitable post-game reunion had arrived. The player that had waved came straight over and gave me a hug. It was the friend that had moved to Israel in 5th grade, 15 years ago. Just behind him was one of the other guys who warmly greeted me. I followed them back towards the team, to see who else I might know. It turned out that there was one other of the original group there, as well as one other guy that I knew growing up.

But the romanticism ends there. There is no golden ending. It was every bit as awkward as I'd imagined. We caught up, with the usual, "So what are you doing now?" Just like you'd ask of the random out of town acquaintance you might run into at the deli. Because the reality was that we have as little in common today as you would expect. We caught up on our current status (one of the guys is married, and two of them were still undergrads- I wasn't the last!), but then it was just going our own ways. There was no, "Let's get together for one last hurrah." They finished cleaning up and I got into my car. They'll go back to the cities they came in from to visit for the holiday weekend, and I went back to my bedroom in my parent's house.

Maybe I shouldn't have gone. Maybe I should have let my childhood memories live on as myths. Or maybe I should have stayed in touch, or reached out to bring us back together after all these years. But maybe I did exactly the right thing. Real life is just that, real. You can't hide from it, and push it into dreamland. These were real friends, and even if I only reached out to them for a few minutes, it still shows that the friendship means something to me. I know that this annual game serves as a mini-reunion for those that take part in it. While I may not enjoy sports, I hope that I can open one afternoon a year to showing these guys that they remain every bit as important to me today as the guys that I am sharing my current experiences with. Throughout life, you'll make friends and lose them, but the ones you have today define you no more than the friends you had yesterday.

I'm sorry for making this so long. Obviously this episode came with a lot of emotion for me to deal with, and writing is my best form of expression. The lesson is never to hold on too tight, but never to let go completely. And that goes for reality as well as your dreams.

Indo/ Jew Bowl

2005-11-23T20:42:00.000-06:00

A ran across a recent story in the Chicago Sun-Times about a group of young people in my community who throw a cultural event referred to as the Indo Jew Bowl. As could be inferred from the name, it consists of a Thanksgiving Day football game between, you guessed it, some Indian kids and some Jewish kids. Cute, I guess.

Then I read the story and the website. And I saw some of the names that were involved. And I realized that not only did I know them, but these had been the guys who made up my closest circle growing up. These were the guys on my Little League team, in my summer camp, and at my birthday parties. And I hadn't seen or heard from most of them in over ten years. It was kind of strange to see guys that had been so close in a major newspaper, where they seemed as close to me as ever, but yet I was no closer to them than any other reader of the paper.

As I peered into every corner of their website, trying to simultaneously find out what my friends were now up to as well as relive my childhood, I caught a part of me that felt as though it had died. But maybe it hasn't. The game is tomorrow, Thanksgiving Day, 3 miles from my house.

And as a Thansgiving Day Football bonus, this article highlights a recent decision to open up a prayer area at Giants Stadium. A victory for Mincha Minyanim? Actually, just a favor for Muslims. But in the city of Jew Day at Shea, why hasn't this been done before? Don't the Jews have Minyanim already? I know at Wrigley Field they have a Mincha Minyan (although it is private, consisting of the Yeshiva and Ida Crown students vending concessions).

Profaning Sex

2005-11-16T07:32:00.000-06:00

There's an ongoing culture war over sex. Right, no news there. Polarizing pundits do such a great job burying the war over sex with other symbols, such as abortion, women's rights, and homosexual marriage. But for all the foolish people out there researching the pros and cons of each of these debates, stop wasting your time. You can never convince people of an acceptable abortion compromise. Simply put, it's because the battle isn't over abortion, regardless of what they say- it's over sex.

Sex not only defines us as a culture, but as individuals. In a very literal sense, it is the foundation of our physical and emotional selves. So, quite obviously, the stakes are high. But in attempting to keep the troops focused on the front lines, few have been willing to admit to what they are really fighting for...the continution of a moral society.

Sex is the most Gd-like act. As any parent can attest to, it is the sole time a human can understand what "creation" is. Only when parenting can a person look at something with the closest reaction possible to how Gd looked upon this world after the 7 days of creation.

And yet there are those who would like to make sex the most base act possible. Not only should it not be committed to an act of love, faith or trust, but it should be lowered to the fullfillment of animal desires. This most potentate of all acts becomes a waste of the seed that could have been planted, and ends as death, in the dehumanifying of a possible newborn. This is the "Sexual Revolution" that "birth control" has enabled.

I'm not saying that those advocating a loosening of the sexual reigns are devil worshipping heathens. Far from it, most are committed to improving the physcial lot of man. And this is the core of the battle- is man's future safeguarded by following his mind or his body? The mind is the most complex and creative function of man, but also his coldest. The body is the most transparent, shortsighted component, but is also the warmest. Should man think or should man feel?

Whatever arguments are used to couch the debate, the end of the issue is the future of our society. For whether in its most exalted encounter a civilization looks to achieve the level of Gd or to act like its animal relatives bespeaks the morality of that society. We can hope to mimic all of the sophistication that the rest of the Animal Kingdom has acheived, or we can do our utmost to utilize the divine wisdom that resides in the world order to create a better life for all humankind.

Drop the pretense and grab a weapon. I've chosen the pen.