More stress dreams

Posted on October 13, 2009 by 40andover

Last night, I dreamed I forgot to graduate from law school. But I forgot to dream about computer malfunctions so, sure enough, computer malfunctions abound in the office today. Because everything is mechanized, even the fax machine goes straight to a scanner which doesn’t function in a system malfunction. I think all legal documents should have as an excuse for performance — along with acts of G-d, civil unrest, widespread labor strikes — a computer malfunction that renders lawyers useless (ok, more useless).

Thank G-d we have a second fax line that spits out faxes using paper (of all things), like the old days. I have had to dictate letters to secretaries in other offices.

I am thinking about a whole new PBS kids show: “Dinosaur Lawyer”. Lawyering before computers and other amenities made us soft. Back to the days of hand-to-hand/pen-to-pen combat. Where if you wanted to be snarky, you had to say it to the person as opposed emailing the snarky comment from the safety of your computerized bunker.

In a separate stress reality, the news has been reporting all day that the Senate Finance Committee’s vote is imminent. VOTE ALREADY. You’re stressing me out.

A typical day in my life

Posted on October 12, 2009 by 40andover

Crazy day on the road to Utopia.

I had every textbook stress dream a person can have. Teeth falling out. Not being dressed at work. Having to use the bathroom in front of people. Having to take an exam in a course at school I thought I dropped. Running and never making it where I need to go. Have I missed any?

I woke up in a cold sweat and groggy. My partner thinks it is because she put too much garlic in that new recipe she tried last night. While the amount of garlic was indeed impressive and did require a Tums or 5, it didn’t cause my bad dreams. Those I was able to conjure up all by myself.

So, I was exhausted when I started the day at the office. I was able to get some work done before my computer crashed. Apparently, everyone else’s computers worked. Mine was the only one frozen. Maybe it happened because I didn’t have a stress dream about it. Note to self: Don’t get out of bed until you’ve had EVERY stress dream imaginable.

I walked to the east side to have lunch with a friend. I bumped into the Columbus Day parade. A sad little affair with marchers dressed up in period clothes to look like people of Columbus’s time. If you want to parade, go to Randall’s island. Get out of my way in midtown. Although I did get perverse pleasure in being jostled into an Orthodox Jewish man who would not otherwise touch me lest I were ritually unclean (I was not).

I did have an opportunity to pass by a prayer station. I’m not kidding. See? Prayer is fine, but you think with all those who are praying, something would have changed by now. mail

I had a really fun lunch with my friend who is so hysterically funny. Because I want to maintain confidentiality of my sources, her stories will come out over time.

After fighting my computer for the rest of the day (the computer won), I went home on the train. There was a guy drizzling hot sauce on top of the hugest falafel I have ever seen, as he was swaying in the subway car. Shreds of lettuce were falling out of his mouth as he ate. I needed to switch cars at the next stop. In my next car, there was an angry child demanding “eye contact” from his mother and saying hateful things in jags and spurts. I think I witnessed a portrait of a sociopath as a young child. They got off and a bike messenger who reeked of pot got on and everything got sooooo mellow.

A day in the life.

Off to bed. To sleep, perhaps to dream. (Maybe I’ll make a pot of coffee and stay awake to keep the dreams at bay.)

Soldiers and civilians will die whatever the Afghanistan strategy

Posted on October 11, 2009 by 40andover

G-d bless the men and women in our armed services. They put their lives on the line in Somalia, on the DMZ between the Koreas, in Afghanistan, in Pakistan and in many other places known and unknown. They are heroes. (Ok, there are some gross exceptions to the rule — Abu Gh’raib for example.)

I hate the war in Iraq and I know I am blessed to have others fight those dangerous battles. Regardless of how you feel about the war, the veterans deserve all that a grateful nation should give them — honor, respect, the best medical care in the world, the best jobs, the best education for them, their spouses and children, economic security in old age and even throw in a country club membership. And still, there is no way to repay the dedication and honor of these brave souls who have seen and done the unspeakable.

Afghanistan seems to be a quagmire. We are damned if we pull out, we are damned if we keep the status quo and there are no assurances of success if we commit further troops there. In short, soldiers and civilians will die no matter what decision is made.

I will not allow my son to fight unless there is an imminent threat to our country. And, in that case, I will go to war with him to protect this nation. So, I can’t say that other people’s children should go.

For everyone involved in the decision-making process, I hope they have children in the line of fire. Then, I’ll believe it is the best decision and not a political one.

President Obama, I am here, I am queer and I am “over” your speech

Posted on October 10, 2009 by 40andover

You gave a campaign speech.

You re-told the story of the LGBT fight for equality.

Mr. President, how will you add to our collective story line?

I know that you need to get the economy, health care and two wars under control and then, if you still have enough political capital, you can make good on your promises to our community. That is the way it should be.

We are Americans, after all, and jobs and economic recovery and health care come first.

But, please don’t keep promising. What is the status of the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell? In your speech, you essentially said that a national hate crimes bill is effectively a done deal. I sure hope you are right.

By the way, Mr. President, you could have carried off a lavender or rainbow tie.

Tsuris Visas

Posted on October 9, 2009 by 40andover

The final frontier in our society is our individual limits of acceptable aggravation — or willingness to be aggravated.

We must find it and name it and protect ourselves from people coming close to the boundary. Let’s take the woman on the subway senselessly cracking her gum so loud that an entire car full of people were disgusted and searched for the culprit.

But for those we love, we must give them an allowance of indulgences for aggravation. In Yiddish, the word is tsuris. So we must give our friends and loved ones free passes for aggravation. There must be a way to capture this in a phrase . . . .

tsuris visa.

Here is how it works in practice: When my father complains about his aches and pains, which are relatively minor, I grant him a tsuris visa, so he can cross my boundary of tolerable aggravation without my reacting badly (or with my at least feeling bad about reacting badly). Sometimes, as happened this summer, he was really having problems, so no visa is required because the tsuris was necessary and appropriate.

POB (partner of blogger) NEVER gives me tsuris of any kind, so she has most favored person status. My son gives me tsuris occasionally that needs to stop at the border of my aggravation boundary, so sometimes I must deny a visa, followed by some amount of stern talk.

So my bottom line is: that if you are going to give me unnecessary tsuris, you need a visa.

And since No-Where-istan is in my head — L’etat, c’est moi (as said Louis XIV) — visas are required because I want to keep my head and my country un-tsuris-y.

How come . . .

Posted on October 8, 2009 by 40andover

there are so many people reading the Bible (especially on New York City subways) and there is so much violence in the world. Do you think they are reading the passages about how the Israelites slaughtered the Jebusites, the Hittites and some other tribes in Canaan? Should we publish the Peaceful Bible that only has passages about communal laws, and lands flowing with milk and honey, and end it with the words to Kumbaya? We can publish it in the University Press of No-Where-istan.

Just another deep thought on my commute on a typical day on my personal road to Utopia.

School days

Posted on October 6, 2009 by 40andover

Today was our parent-teacher conference. Our son is blossoming at his new school. The feedback is that, although he has some areas that require work, he is smart, well-liked and presents as a kind, warm-hearted kid. (Note to self: confirm we are really talking about the same child.) That is great news.

After the conference, we wait because he wants to come out and greet us. He runs into our arms and then runs away because he is in the middle of something he finds fun. (Note to self: wait until later to cry over how independent he is.)

After last year’s terrible experience in a large public school, my son who needs some extra attention, is finding his place in his new school. And we, his moms, are slowly shedding the stress of last year and enjoying the re-kindled love of school and learning. (Note to self: approach networks about a made-for-TV movie.)

It is true that a parent is only as happy as his/her saddest child. Today, my son is happy. And if my son is happy, then the economy can stink (but not for much longer). Life is good today.

Fighting the Hopelessness

Posted on October 6, 2009 by 40andover

I come from strong stock. My parents were born in the 1920s to immigrant, semi-literate parents. My parents were in their late 30s and early 40s when they had us.

They lived through the depression, the wars and made the galactic leap beyond the Lower East Side and Pelham Parkway (in the Bronx) to settle down in midtown Manhattan. We had all of the advantages and none of the handicaps of my parents’ and grandparents’ generations. My grandfather would shake his head — anything is possible in America.

We were raised to expect to work hard and succeed. Success was the inevitable end of hard work. You could miss Mother’s Day or a family celebration — even great uncle Lou’s retirement party — if you were working. (But you couldn’t miss a funeral or a shiva because even if you didn’t like the person alive, G-d forbid you wouldn’t pay your respects after the end. But I digress.)

Success was measured by your ability to give more to your children and community than your parents did. A Nobel Prize was not required but not off the table either, so to speak.

I can’t live up to my heritage. Why? I am a formerly successful lawyer, whose practice continues to crater in the aftermath of the greatest economic meltdown since the Great Depression.

But failure is not an option. No matter what, we are responsible for our lives and fear of homelessness is good.

Fear is a motivator but hopelessness is the enemy. I try to imagine that I am the protagonist in a Robert Ludlum novel about an anemic looking, gray-haired, 40-something desk jockey — ok, work with me — who fights against the great evil of NO HOPE. So call me Joan Bourne (Jason would be too butch).

I want my family to live in comfort and I want this world to be a better place for my having been born into it. But fighting the hopelessness is overwhelming.

Dad’s 89th birthday dinner

Posted on October 5, 2009 by 40andover

So, another family celebration. We all talk at once so no one hears anyone else’s opinion. When we don’t want anyone to argue with us, we start our opinions with, “unencumbered by fact or information.” Of course, no one is really listening.

At one point we were talking over each other about which candidates won the run-off primaries in New York City. My 7 year-old son asked innocently, “who did you vote for and why?” So we all talked at once but at some point we fell quiet when my brother-in-law was explaining in earnest to my son the differences between the investment strategies of candidates Yassky and Liu, and the issues of defined benefit plan.

Trying to stop my brother-in-law from needlessly getting over-wrought at the flagrant injustices of our system and my son’s seemingly impassive expression, I kept interjecting, “he is only seven” and “he was born in 2002” and finally, “you need to be more specific about the meaning of the defined benefit plan and the applicable law.” It took my brother-in-law a minute to realize the joke. By this time, my son had already tuned us out and was reading his magazine.

The good news is that Dad was just happy that three generations were gathered around the table, celebrating his birthday, and my sister let him have a second glass of wine. (And, since we weren’t really listening to each other, we can have the same conversation on Sunday night when we have our weekly family dinner.)

Another successful family gathering.

Tainted Beef, Still a Problem after 100 years

Posted on October 5, 2009 by 40andover

I read this weekend about a young girl paralyzed by eating a hamburger tainted with bacteria.

In the 1900s, reporters and journalists — among them Upton Sinclair, Lincoln Steffens and Ida Tarbell — wrote articles and books detailing, among other things, the unclean practices in meat-packing factories.

One hundred years later, we still read about tainted meat. Not in a third world country. Right here in the USA.

It seems that most of the strides made in sanitary food preparation have been lost in the era of de-regulation.

We need more and better inspectors and real, catastrophic economic sanctions against operators of packaging companies that produce tainted food. In some of the most egregious cases, the unsanitary conditions are obvious to the untrained eye. We need to make it too costly to produce unhealthy products.

How many more children must die or be crippled by E Coli or other dangerous bacteria festering in our food production plants?

40 — oh wait, yikes!! 50 — andoverblog

Aging and living in urban US

Category Archives: Life