Sixes and Sevens

I am feeling at sixes and sevens as my partner’s grandmother used to say.  It is the summer but it doesn’t feel good to take time off since productivity has been low. 

It isn’t like the old days when you were rushing around before vacation and leaving phone numbers where you can be reached while away and all the time thinking, “I deserve this time off, why can’t people leave me alone?”  Once I closed a deal near a beach (I stepped away so other vacationers couldn’t hear my drill sargeant shouts) and, according to a colleague with whom I spoke after my vacation, my rapid fire instructions (ok, yelling) were punctuated by the sounds of sea gulls, much to the pleasure of some on the phone. 

Now we are afraid that our blackberries WON’T buzz or beep or vibrate or whatever.  So, I just put mine on quiet so I control the silence, and not the economy.  (Little petty victories are important.)

Did anyone understand what she said?

On Sunday, Sarah Palin gave another speech, this time, REALLY stepping down.  As a parting gesture of kindness, I will assume that her unintelligible press conferences of last month were the result of a hastily-made decision to quit.  (Because we she says she is not a quitter and yet she is quitting in the middle of her term, there she goes again speaking English words strung together in a most fascinating way.  Maybe it is Palinese.)

She had over a month to prepare her REAL good-bye speech and calibrate her parting impression on her former constituency and the nation.  Hmmm.  She did not put that time to good use.  I wonder what her high school English teachers think?  Are they cowering in a corner?  Is this the product of a public school education in one of the richest countries in the world?  If so, G-d help us.

Sarah, dear, get a speech writer and stick to the teleprompters.

On my mind (with apologies to A.M. Rosenthal)

No one ever trusted politicians.  Even our Founding Fathers flung the muck around to win an election.  Many of them did not in their personal lives live up to the high ideals of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitutions which they so lovingly drafted.  So, even in hoary (or whore-y) times, you could tell most politicians were lying because their lips were moving.

In the last 30 years (which is roughly equivalent to my adult memory), the clergy have disappointed me mightily in big and small ways.  First, Bernard Bergman and the nursing home scandal.  He dared to wear an outward sign of piety as he sat accused of heinous acts against other human beings.  Then the priests who abused children, making a mockery of the cross that they wore and the robes they donned. Then the Taliban clerics destroying cultures and killing people in the name of their haywire fundamentalism.

Even with all of this, I assume that people start out dealing with each other in good faith and with decency.  (Yes, I am a schmuck.)

So, why am I on a rant? The straw that broke the camel’s back: New Jersey.  This is not some small scandal.  Money laundering, trafficking in human organs, influence peddling and stealing from the  public coffers across many cities and communities.  Not just any time.   IN THESE TIMES WHEN WE NEED OUR POLITICIANS AND CLERGY TO LEAD US OUT OF THE BIGGEST FINANCIAL AND SOCIAL MELTDOWNS SINCE THE GREAT DEPRESSION.

I want to yell at each of those arrested in this New Jersey scandal who as politicians or rabbis enjoyed our collective trust and faith: “Have you no sense of decency, sir? At long last, have you left no sense of decency?” (to quote Joseph Welch, a lawyer at Hale & Dorr who represented the Army at the 1950’s McCarthy hearings)

WHERE IS THE OUTRAGE!!

I seemed to have misplaced . . . .

I looked in the mirror in the mirror just now and I feel as if I misplaced a decade somewhere.  Maybe it is in the same place where my mind has been waiting patiently to be found.  My assistant has been helping try to find my mind for eight or so years now.

I don’t pine for a lost youth.  My adult years have been great.  People who say college are the best years are NUTS.  Life gets better, more textured, more nuanced and fuller with age.

I do pine for my supple skin (vanity purposes only) and limber muscles (to keep up with my son) of my early thirties.  I am trying to be reasonble even with that — I’m not asking for early twenties.  I’ll take late thirties even, as long as there are a few extra memory cells thrown in.

Sunday night dinner chez nous

When we are not subverting nature, the social fabric of this country and the Word of G-d, my partner and I have (together with our son) have my sister, my brother-in-law and my dad over for Sunday night dinner.  Sometimes, my cousin joins us and, in the non-summer months, my partner’s father comes, too.  (Both our mothers are now of blessed memory.)

My brother-in-law and my son look at books that contain facts about lots of different things in the ways that big boys and little boys do.  So far, not subversive.  But wait, they are reading about pre-historic animals and their presently existing descendants, if any.  Ok, evolution and not creationism or intelligent design (has anyone holding the latter view ever looked at these scary ugly beasts?) Check the subversive box.

We gather around the table for dinner.  A summertime fare.  No chilled white wine from the Napa Valley.  So, ok so far. Wait, watercress, roasted pine nuts and pasta in the pasta salad.  Effete eastern liberals.  My dad and partner have camomille tea.  AAAAArgh. Check another subversive box.

We talk about world events.  Concerned citizens.  Good sign.  OH, NO, we are talking about health care and end of life care and how not every test is necessary and, even under orthodox doctrine, a procedure can be rejected if it prolongs the function of an organ but not the functioning of the person.  Crazy liberals using orthodoxy against those who would preserve life at all costs (except when these same people condone capital punishment).  Oooh, looking like a strike out, but since we caught the “pro-life; pro-death penalty” group in its own hypocrisy, let’s call that a foul tip. No check in the subversive box.

It is 7:45pm and time for our son to have a bath, read a story and go to bed and for me to do the dishes.  Sounds a little Cleaver-like.  We all hug and kiss at the door and our son yells, “family hug!” so three generations huddle together in a big hug, squeeze and many kisses.  Uh, oh, hippie commune.  Strike three. Big check in the subversive box.

Guess we’ve clearly drank the Obama kool aid.  It tastes good, so I think I’ll get more.  And for the record, my partner and I have had Saturday night dates since our son was a 1 year-old (he is 7 now). So, if POTUS and FLOTUS need some date night ideas, they should feel free to have their staff members ask us.

Thought for today July 26, 2009: Why newspapers must survive

The 24 hour news REcycle needs information to feed the machine it created.  If there is no news, then the machine requires that the hosts “dig deeper” to create news or to raise ancillary issues to the level of important news.  Michael Jackson and Jon and Kate are not as important as (although they are very important to those who love them) news items as are the recent North Korean alleged shipment of arms to Myanmar, the election issues in Iran, the health care bill, the economy and about ten other issues that have fallen into the news black hole.

True, the newspapers are not necessarily heroic purveyors of important information  — they were complacent about the Iraq war.

But the pressures of a 24-hour newsday does not encourage in-depth journalism.  Just because a headline ran over cable the night before doesn’t mean that the news is stale the next day.  Headlines do not contain all of the information one needs to know.  News is not like an iPod or a Nintendo game — good until the next version comes out.  A news story evolves as people and movements weigh in and complicate the issues.

I prefer newspapers.  I prefer articles that have taken a week in creation.  They are more informative, more textured and better considered than the regurgitation of the same pat phrases heard on television journalism. But they are not gospel.  So, one needs to read many sources, including some representing the opposite side of one’s general political leanings.

If independent newspapers become obsolete, the free flow of information will be drastically curtailed in our society and that is a threat to our freedoms and liberty.  And if it happens, I will get my news from Jon Stewart.

My sister, my hero

My sister is a highly respected medical doctor. More than that, she is a healer. No, she doesn’t perform magic; she can’t make stricken people walk.

She is a healer because she cares. She talks to families and doesn’t leave the hospital until everyone is stable or under control. She can’t prevent bad things from happening if those bad things are beyond the skills of doctors and death ultimately beats each of us.  But she calms anxiety, she speaks softly and tenderly and she instills confidence — for the patient and the family. That’s why I say she is a healer. Regardless of the outcome.

I have been out with her at dinner or the gym, when she has run back to the hospital because the family of a patient arrived and she really wanted to talk with them or when, sadly, a patient she was following took a bad turn.

In this whole health care debate, I think all we need are more doctors like my sister who choose to be attendings at hospitals and not boutique salons for the rich and famous.

My sister is my hero.  Not because she is my big sister.  Because she is a caring doctor who heals strangers.

A NYC Triathlon

I get the running and the biking in NYC, but the swimming part of the triathlon?_Device Memory_home_user_pictures_IMG00023 Especially when swimming involves the Hudson River.  I had to take a picture.  There is primordial ooze in there.  Does everyone who does this event need a tetanus shot?  Will one emerge transmorphed into the Swamp Thing?  Every one is worried about Swine Flu.  I am worried about stirring up the unknown waters of the Hudson River.  This color of green is not eco-friendly.  But, I am a cynical New Yorker.