By now it is the official breaking news: swine flu is the official threat from sea to shining sea, and there is the first official confirmed death from it in the United States.
Swine flu is believed to have originated in Mexico. Great! Wonderful! Fantastic! Another present from the general direction of America-hating banana republics; one in the long line that includes bed bugs (which, by the way, together with malaria, are effectively controlled by DDT), pushy America-haters who are busy waving our flag upside-down, drug-resistant TB, shady work ethics, amazing ability to leach off every single social program we have (to the significant determent of American taxpayers), MS 13, total disrespect for our culture, and people devoid of manners on New York subway (just to name a few).
Our government officials, in their infinite, bottomless wisdom, are screening all arriving from Mexico. HOW ABOUT PEOPLE WHO ARRIVE ILLEGALLY? WHO SCREENS THEM?
And for the love of all that is holy could you please, please start deporting the illegals and secure the damn south border!
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
SEVEN MINUTES OF BLISS
As mentioned recently, Fluffies need a bit of re-adjustment to the presence of Papi in their lives. Last night was still marked by that lengthy process, as a result of which they refused the performance of any part of nightly ritual by yours truly, piteously crying for Mommy of loudly demanding her presence. There was even an uttering to the tune of "don't want to show Papi burger we made ‘cause Papi is stupid".
At a certain point in the evening, Mommy went to for a long overdue night out with friends, and it was Papi and Abba against 2 American Gnomes. My brother-in-law belongs to the old school of Jewish parents so aptly described by the similarly old joke about Italian mother, Jewish mother, and a bowl of soup. For those unfamiliar with this gem, he was basically feeding them second dinner. After this ceremony was concluded, I politely inquired if His Royal Highness, Mini Not Me, would condescend to accompany his humble servant to The Sleeping Chamber. "No, Mommy!" - at which juncture he was scooped up by his father and removed to The Sleeping Chamber without Royal Permission.
Mini Me, due to her late nap, was left in my custody. So, I politely inquired if Her Royal Highness would like to listen to something read to her. She graciously agreed. Her brother, upon hearing my suggestion, all of the sudden also expressed the desire of my humble company and my reading. Alas, he was carried upstairs. So, it was just Golden Delicious and her Papi.
She chose her books. We had another riveting discussion about the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple and "the bad people" who effected that destruction. After the requisite number of books was read and discussed, I reminded her of her promise to go upstairs to her Sleeping Quarters. She duly kept her word. But on her way she kept up very intelligent discussion, even showing me a hole in the wall left by the "geniuses" who delivered her "Big Kid Bed". She also kept wishing good night and blowing kisses.
Those seven minutes spent in reading, discussing, and receiving "Big Kisses" was sheer heavenly pleasure. There are simply no other words to describe it. Exhaustion, frustration, hunger pains - all disappeared in a puff of smoke. The innocent and, believe it or not, unconditional love of a little child in return for your attention, however minimal, is truly more precious than rubies.
At a certain point in the evening, Mommy went to for a long overdue night out with friends, and it was Papi and Abba against 2 American Gnomes. My brother-in-law belongs to the old school of Jewish parents so aptly described by the similarly old joke about Italian mother, Jewish mother, and a bowl of soup. For those unfamiliar with this gem, he was basically feeding them second dinner. After this ceremony was concluded, I politely inquired if His Royal Highness, Mini Not Me, would condescend to accompany his humble servant to The Sleeping Chamber. "No, Mommy!" - at which juncture he was scooped up by his father and removed to The Sleeping Chamber without Royal Permission.
Mini Me, due to her late nap, was left in my custody. So, I politely inquired if Her Royal Highness would like to listen to something read to her. She graciously agreed. Her brother, upon hearing my suggestion, all of the sudden also expressed the desire of my humble company and my reading. Alas, he was carried upstairs. So, it was just Golden Delicious and her Papi.
She chose her books. We had another riveting discussion about the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple and "the bad people" who effected that destruction. After the requisite number of books was read and discussed, I reminded her of her promise to go upstairs to her Sleeping Quarters. She duly kept her word. But on her way she kept up very intelligent discussion, even showing me a hole in the wall left by the "geniuses" who delivered her "Big Kid Bed". She also kept wishing good night and blowing kisses.
Those seven minutes spent in reading, discussing, and receiving "Big Kisses" was sheer heavenly pleasure. There are simply no other words to describe it. Exhaustion, frustration, hunger pains - all disappeared in a puff of smoke. The innocent and, believe it or not, unconditional love of a little child in return for your attention, however minimal, is truly more precious than rubies.
Monday, April 27, 2009
HOLIDAY HIGHLIGHTS
Part 2
Anyway, aside from that remarkable conversation with a newly minted barrister, my Passover included the following:
Was good-naturally accused of loving Mini Me sooo much more than Mini Not Me; accusation based on the amount of corresponding pictures I have posted in FaceBook. In defense, had to inform my friend that I love them both to pieces; the disparity in the quantity of pictures comes from the simple fact of Mini Me enjoying Sunday outings with her Papi, as opposed to her brother, who would have social services on my head way before we would reach Manhattan with his pitiful demands of "Mommy." My brother had to add his two cents to the story by pointing out that it would probably be FBI, and not social services, since Mini Not Me is, well, mini not me, so I would probably be accused of kidnapping, and not just child abuse. Just imagine the announcements on the Subway!
It also became apparent that I am not alone in my desire to deal a crushing, but well deserved blow to our thoroughly corrupt school system by starting to home school our kids. One of my friends even had a very practical plan of how to do it (unfortunately, it usually stops at our necessity to work for a living).
At both Sedarim, I was treated to different, but equally gory and imaginative descriptions of what was going on in the Temple when people were bringing their Passover sacrifices en mass. What is it with men and blood and gore?
Contained myself in the face of extreme provocation offered by one of my very good friends, who, due to a probable early mid-life crisis, became a fervent Obama supported and honorary black dude.
Was further entertained in a different household by a tale offered by one of their daughters. She (the daughter) is working in some kind of administrative capacity in a nursing home. Apparently, she had an immigrant co-worker, who, being a very good seamstress, was offered a much better paying position in one of the couture houses. However, the poor woman would rather go back to being an underpaid administrative worker, since dealing with mercurial moods of the people who are able to afford that couture is very wearing on the nerves. One example given was some kind of famous lady named Jennifer Lopez (you got to love the immigrants ignorant of our idiotic fascination with celebrities) who insisted on having a gown cut (despite the gently offered advise), and then wanted to lengthen it again.
Got into a discussion with a young father, who thought that it's a hoot to suggest that it would be better for his daughter to have a permanent diaper rush, because, according to his calculations, Desitin is cheaper than Huggies. Not the first time did I observe that fatherhood does not necessarily mature the male of the species.
Tried to explain to a nice Ashkenazi girl my reasoning for my family not belonging to either Ashkenazim or Sephardim (which, by the way, requires a rudimentary knowledge of Jewish history). "So, how would you classify yourself?" was her slightly annoyed question (I guess my accent was grading on her nerves). "Well, we just call ourselves Jews." "What?" Sheesh! You know those strange people who annoy everyone? Yes, those!
Brought a bottle of wine to my other friend, which resulted in his corkscrew breaking. In situation like this I would just make a joke and put the bottle away till I can lay my hands on another corkscrew. Well, I am a girl, so that do I know. To him it became a test of manhood, and he spent more than an hour (although he insisted on it being only twenty six minutes) trying to open a blessed bottle while using a variety of very inventive techniques. Eventually, the bottle surrendered! At least everyone liked the wine:)
I was also accused by him in liking Earl Grey tea only because I am a Trekki.
Anyway, aside from that remarkable conversation with a newly minted barrister, my Passover included the following:
Was good-naturally accused of loving Mini Me sooo much more than Mini Not Me; accusation based on the amount of corresponding pictures I have posted in FaceBook. In defense, had to inform my friend that I love them both to pieces; the disparity in the quantity of pictures comes from the simple fact of Mini Me enjoying Sunday outings with her Papi, as opposed to her brother, who would have social services on my head way before we would reach Manhattan with his pitiful demands of "Mommy." My brother had to add his two cents to the story by pointing out that it would probably be FBI, and not social services, since Mini Not Me is, well, mini not me, so I would probably be accused of kidnapping, and not just child abuse. Just imagine the announcements on the Subway!
It also became apparent that I am not alone in my desire to deal a crushing, but well deserved blow to our thoroughly corrupt school system by starting to home school our kids. One of my friends even had a very practical plan of how to do it (unfortunately, it usually stops at our necessity to work for a living).
At both Sedarim, I was treated to different, but equally gory and imaginative descriptions of what was going on in the Temple when people were bringing their Passover sacrifices en mass. What is it with men and blood and gore?
Contained myself in the face of extreme provocation offered by one of my very good friends, who, due to a probable early mid-life crisis, became a fervent Obama supported and honorary black dude.
Was further entertained in a different household by a tale offered by one of their daughters. She (the daughter) is working in some kind of administrative capacity in a nursing home. Apparently, she had an immigrant co-worker, who, being a very good seamstress, was offered a much better paying position in one of the couture houses. However, the poor woman would rather go back to being an underpaid administrative worker, since dealing with mercurial moods of the people who are able to afford that couture is very wearing on the nerves. One example given was some kind of famous lady named Jennifer Lopez (you got to love the immigrants ignorant of our idiotic fascination with celebrities) who insisted on having a gown cut (despite the gently offered advise), and then wanted to lengthen it again.
Got into a discussion with a young father, who thought that it's a hoot to suggest that it would be better for his daughter to have a permanent diaper rush, because, according to his calculations, Desitin is cheaper than Huggies. Not the first time did I observe that fatherhood does not necessarily mature the male of the species.
Tried to explain to a nice Ashkenazi girl my reasoning for my family not belonging to either Ashkenazim or Sephardim (which, by the way, requires a rudimentary knowledge of Jewish history). "So, how would you classify yourself?" was her slightly annoyed question (I guess my accent was grading on her nerves). "Well, we just call ourselves Jews." "What?" Sheesh! You know those strange people who annoy everyone? Yes, those!
Brought a bottle of wine to my other friend, which resulted in his corkscrew breaking. In situation like this I would just make a joke and put the bottle away till I can lay my hands on another corkscrew. Well, I am a girl, so that do I know. To him it became a test of manhood, and he spent more than an hour (although he insisted on it being only twenty six minutes) trying to open a blessed bottle while using a variety of very inventive techniques. Eventually, the bottle surrendered! At least everyone liked the wine:)
I was also accused by him in liking Earl Grey tea only because I am a Trekki.
WEEKEND UPDATE
Here is a quick weekend update.
This past week yours truly, just like the rest of the population of our fair city, was hit with the mercurial moods of the not so fair weather. By the time Sunday arrived, I thought that I was (unlike the other years) mentally prepared for the heat wave. Ha, ha, hearty har har!
Still, I was determined not to miss tulips this year; and, again judging by the mood swings of our weather, it looked like the poor tulips and narcissuses, who were fighting for about a month for the right to the full bloom, and deterred by at least three torrential rain storms and just as many temperature drops, would finally burst into full bloom this weekend, and immediately weather away due to extreme heat. So, excursion to Botanical Gardens became a matter of utmost import for this weekend.
With that thought in mind, I woke up at the un-G-dly hour of 7:30 am, and by about nine o’clock was in full battle readiness (which duly surprised my poor sister, who is used to my extreme dawdling and protracted breakfasts on Sunday mornings). Unfortunately, during their "vakashin", munchkins became even more Mommy-clingy, and adamantly refused to be dressed by yours truly; this fact resulting in our parking spot not in the immediate vicinity of the Garden's entrance. Due to not so comfortable footwear and already not too comfortable temperatures, I fell slightly behind during our trek from the car to the entrance. All of the sudden both of them almost simultaneously expressed concern of "where Papi" and "I can't see Papi". Go figure!
While in the garden, we:
Explored the "children's learning garden": same flowers, but on the smaller scale, completed with a cute tiny maze, even cuter assorted benches, and tiny telescope, through which little kids could observe the neighboring vegetable patches.
Enjoyed the profuse amount of tulips in all different colors (and, as predicted, in very ripe stages of full bloom).
Found a whole bunch of Dorothy's (for those of you living a cave, that's Elmo's goldfish, and we found a whole pond of them!
Took an obscene amount of pictures (thank G-d for digital cameras). Unfortunately, Mini Me already entered a stage where taking a good shot of her in any situation requires major maneuvers on par of Wellington's before Vittoria. Mini Not Me, on the other hand, is still happy to pose, wave at Mommy, and say "cheese". The best shot of him was the one where he was standing on a gorgeous lawn, holding a sign that said "Keep Off".
Again, due to our cantankerous costumers, we did not pack snacks (thank G-d we did pack water). So, Mini Me and Mini Not Me had to share an apple; hurray for the ingenuity of people from poor countries (because an American born mother would not be able to figure that one out).
Poor Mini Me for whatever reason developed an irrational fear of all insects, which unfortunately prevented her from enjoying the occasional butterflies.
Mini Not Me and his aunt got into another situation which would have resulted in an interesting exchange, if not for Mini Not Me's presence. We decided to cool off a bit in a gift shop. My neffie pooh was a total angel; he was just holding my hand, walking around, and quietly exploring. His extreme cuteness attracted one of the sales girls, and she decided to socialize a bit. Mini Not Me, being wary of strangers, immediately hugged my knees (in the absence of Mommy's) and hid his face in my skirt. I was able to coax him into eventual high and low fives, a little smile, and even a kiss. The girl was totally charmed and, probably due to my "sexy" accent, inquired as to where my nephew was hailing from. To which I politely replied that he was right from here; which is unvarnished truth, since he made his appearance into the world right at one of the Brooklyn's hospitals. After a bit more of polite small talk, Fluffy Head told me that he wanted to go outside. As we were making our slow trek down the stairs, I distinctly heard my recent words repeated with derision. I turned my head, and, sure enough, there was a young black couple discussing my recent (and in their eyes false) statement about Mini Not Me being from Brooklyn. Again, thank G-d for my little munchkin, otherwise, in my present mood, I would have replied with couple of well worded (printable) arguments which may have resulted in eventual personal acquaintance with that well-known defender of civil rights by the name of Al Sharpton.
We also got to The Cherry Esplanade, where Fluffies were able to run around in the grass.
Over all, it was a wonderful, if exhausting, outing (but then, all the outings with Cookies are wonderful and exhausting).
On the way home, my sis blessed her procrastinating tendencies, as a result of which she ended up with a box of Apple Jacks in her car, which by that time was very timely.
Mini Not Me fell asleep; Mini Me refused my assistance in getting out of the car. I was politely asked to "go away" and "go home". So, after unloading the stroller, I picked my bag and headed to the door, at which point I was stopped by "where are you going, Papi?" "Well, you told me to go home, so I am going." "Uhh, go to this home. Stay here, Papi!"
I love you very much, my fluffy cookie heads!
This past week yours truly, just like the rest of the population of our fair city, was hit with the mercurial moods of the not so fair weather. By the time Sunday arrived, I thought that I was (unlike the other years) mentally prepared for the heat wave. Ha, ha, hearty har har!
Still, I was determined not to miss tulips this year; and, again judging by the mood swings of our weather, it looked like the poor tulips and narcissuses, who were fighting for about a month for the right to the full bloom, and deterred by at least three torrential rain storms and just as many temperature drops, would finally burst into full bloom this weekend, and immediately weather away due to extreme heat. So, excursion to Botanical Gardens became a matter of utmost import for this weekend.
With that thought in mind, I woke up at the un-G-dly hour of 7:30 am, and by about nine o’clock was in full battle readiness (which duly surprised my poor sister, who is used to my extreme dawdling and protracted breakfasts on Sunday mornings). Unfortunately, during their "vakashin", munchkins became even more Mommy-clingy, and adamantly refused to be dressed by yours truly; this fact resulting in our parking spot not in the immediate vicinity of the Garden's entrance. Due to not so comfortable footwear and already not too comfortable temperatures, I fell slightly behind during our trek from the car to the entrance. All of the sudden both of them almost simultaneously expressed concern of "where Papi" and "I can't see Papi". Go figure!
While in the garden, we:
Explored the "children's learning garden": same flowers, but on the smaller scale, completed with a cute tiny maze, even cuter assorted benches, and tiny telescope, through which little kids could observe the neighboring vegetable patches.
Enjoyed the profuse amount of tulips in all different colors (and, as predicted, in very ripe stages of full bloom).
Found a whole bunch of Dorothy's (for those of you living a cave, that's Elmo's goldfish, and we found a whole pond of them!
Took an obscene amount of pictures (thank G-d for digital cameras). Unfortunately, Mini Me already entered a stage where taking a good shot of her in any situation requires major maneuvers on par of Wellington's before Vittoria. Mini Not Me, on the other hand, is still happy to pose, wave at Mommy, and say "cheese". The best shot of him was the one where he was standing on a gorgeous lawn, holding a sign that said "Keep Off".
Again, due to our cantankerous costumers, we did not pack snacks (thank G-d we did pack water). So, Mini Me and Mini Not Me had to share an apple; hurray for the ingenuity of people from poor countries (because an American born mother would not be able to figure that one out).
Poor Mini Me for whatever reason developed an irrational fear of all insects, which unfortunately prevented her from enjoying the occasional butterflies.
Mini Not Me and his aunt got into another situation which would have resulted in an interesting exchange, if not for Mini Not Me's presence. We decided to cool off a bit in a gift shop. My neffie pooh was a total angel; he was just holding my hand, walking around, and quietly exploring. His extreme cuteness attracted one of the sales girls, and she decided to socialize a bit. Mini Not Me, being wary of strangers, immediately hugged my knees (in the absence of Mommy's) and hid his face in my skirt. I was able to coax him into eventual high and low fives, a little smile, and even a kiss. The girl was totally charmed and, probably due to my "sexy" accent, inquired as to where my nephew was hailing from. To which I politely replied that he was right from here; which is unvarnished truth, since he made his appearance into the world right at one of the Brooklyn's hospitals. After a bit more of polite small talk, Fluffy Head told me that he wanted to go outside. As we were making our slow trek down the stairs, I distinctly heard my recent words repeated with derision. I turned my head, and, sure enough, there was a young black couple discussing my recent (and in their eyes false) statement about Mini Not Me being from Brooklyn. Again, thank G-d for my little munchkin, otherwise, in my present mood, I would have replied with couple of well worded (printable) arguments which may have resulted in eventual personal acquaintance with that well-known defender of civil rights by the name of Al Sharpton.
We also got to The Cherry Esplanade, where Fluffies were able to run around in the grass.
Over all, it was a wonderful, if exhausting, outing (but then, all the outings with Cookies are wonderful and exhausting).
On the way home, my sis blessed her procrastinating tendencies, as a result of which she ended up with a box of Apple Jacks in her car, which by that time was very timely.
Mini Not Me fell asleep; Mini Me refused my assistance in getting out of the car. I was politely asked to "go away" and "go home". So, after unloading the stroller, I picked my bag and headed to the door, at which point I was stopped by "where are you going, Papi?" "Well, you told me to go home, so I am going." "Uhh, go to this home. Stay here, Papi!"
I love you very much, my fluffy cookie heads!
Friday, April 24, 2009
HAPPY EARTH DAY!
As always, a little belated, but also as always very sincere Happy Earth Day!
Congratulations, green people, tree huggers, environmentalists, and other sundry worshippers of Gaia! Another year of job well done!
There is only one little, almost miniscule little thingy that you forgot to accomplish amidst your tireless and devoted efforts towards giving nightmares to little children, expanding the number of malaria sufferers, robbing US taxpayers, preparing fresh lists of climate criminals, zipping back and forth on private jets for all your very important conferences, destroying lives and careers of scientists who oppose your noble efforts, plus making baby steps towards the destruction of Western economy, world hunger and depopulation of Earth. You forgot to declare yourselves as official religion de jour. But, hey, there is still time to accomplish this, plus complete all of the above. After all, you are so good at it!
So, salute yourselves with something produced with a minimal carbon footprint on another year of worthy endeavors!
Congratulations, green people, tree huggers, environmentalists, and other sundry worshippers of Gaia! Another year of job well done!
There is only one little, almost miniscule little thingy that you forgot to accomplish amidst your tireless and devoted efforts towards giving nightmares to little children, expanding the number of malaria sufferers, robbing US taxpayers, preparing fresh lists of climate criminals, zipping back and forth on private jets for all your very important conferences, destroying lives and careers of scientists who oppose your noble efforts, plus making baby steps towards the destruction of Western economy, world hunger and depopulation of Earth. You forgot to declare yourselves as official religion de jour. But, hey, there is still time to accomplish this, plus complete all of the above. After all, you are so good at it!
So, salute yourselves with something produced with a minimal carbon footprint on another year of worthy endeavors!
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
JEWISH STUBBORNESS
Mine Me and Mini Not Me were very much looking forward to their "vacashun", and by all accounts enjoyed themselves. Unfortunately, they also came home sick.
Last night I finally got a chance to see them and am very happy to report that I was greeted with exuberance from across the street and hugs and kisses upon more solid contact.
Being that they were still on Arizona time, we undertook a little evening constitutional. Poor Mini Me was pretty much under the weather and could only be coaxed to eat a piece of toast immediately before our departure. Lo and behold, about twenty minutes into our promenade she all of the sudden demanded to be taken to Dunkin' Donuts. I followed my gut feeling, which told me it was not a good idea to take her there at this point in the game. Mommy was also consulted for final decision (and also for the truthfulness of my subsequent statements).
Anyway, Golden Delicious was informed that it was too late to go to DD since they were closed. "No, they are not!" "But I just spoke with Mommy, and she told me they are closed". "No, they are open!" This went on for about a minute. Finally I foolishly impersonated my own parents and asked her if a little birdie told her that DD is still open. "Yes" was an immediate and direct response. "Really? What was birdie’s name?" A very short silence with eyes looking straight at me was followed by a very resolute answer "Pigeon!"
Basically, the remaining forty or so minutes of our constitutional were periodically interspersed with her assurances that even though neighborhood pizza that we just passed was closed, DD is open, and my responses that Pigeon was wrong and Mommy told me that it was closed. When I finally surrendered them to my tired looking sibling, this was my opening gambit: "Mommy, could you imagine this? A birdie named Pigeon misinformed us and told us that Dunkin' Donuts were still open!"
Last night I finally got a chance to see them and am very happy to report that I was greeted with exuberance from across the street and hugs and kisses upon more solid contact.
Being that they were still on Arizona time, we undertook a little evening constitutional. Poor Mini Me was pretty much under the weather and could only be coaxed to eat a piece of toast immediately before our departure. Lo and behold, about twenty minutes into our promenade she all of the sudden demanded to be taken to Dunkin' Donuts. I followed my gut feeling, which told me it was not a good idea to take her there at this point in the game. Mommy was also consulted for final decision (and also for the truthfulness of my subsequent statements).
Anyway, Golden Delicious was informed that it was too late to go to DD since they were closed. "No, they are not!" "But I just spoke with Mommy, and she told me they are closed". "No, they are open!" This went on for about a minute. Finally I foolishly impersonated my own parents and asked her if a little birdie told her that DD is still open. "Yes" was an immediate and direct response. "Really? What was birdie’s name?" A very short silence with eyes looking straight at me was followed by a very resolute answer "Pigeon!"
Basically, the remaining forty or so minutes of our constitutional were periodically interspersed with her assurances that even though neighborhood pizza that we just passed was closed, DD is open, and my responses that Pigeon was wrong and Mommy told me that it was closed. When I finally surrendered them to my tired looking sibling, this was my opening gambit: "Mommy, could you imagine this? A birdie named Pigeon misinformed us and told us that Dunkin' Donuts were still open!"
HOLOCAUST REMEMBRANCE DAY
In memory of six million of our brothers and sisters, may G-d avenge their blood!
May our Heavenly Father grant a measure of peace to all who survived that horror and lived to bear witness.
Master of the Universe, please do not forsake us and turn away from us in anger! Please protect us from our many enemies and grant us the wisdom of understanding what "never again" really means!
May our unconditional love for each other shield us from our haters and bring us the ultimate redemption.
May our Heavenly Father grant a measure of peace to all who survived that horror and lived to bear witness.
Master of the Universe, please do not forsake us and turn away from us in anger! Please protect us from our many enemies and grant us the wisdom of understanding what "never again" really means!
May our unconditional love for each other shield us from our haters and bring us the ultimate redemption.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
HOLIDAY HIGHLIGHTS
Part 1
This past Holiday, just like any other, was a chance to visit as many friends as my feet would allow. In the process, I have accumulated some noteworthy highlights. So, without further ado, here is part one.
There are two "American" families that I usually love to visit. The reasons for this love are manifold, but mainly it is because these people are so "un-Flatbushly" friendly, accepting, and non-judgmental. Also due to their friendliness, there is always a chance that I would see somebody who would grade on my nerves (but I usually try to accept the goodness with a bit of badness attached to it). Unfortunately, during the visits to one of these houses there is usually a fifty percent chance that one of the guests would irritate my nerves to the extent that those same nerves would not be able to keep my yup closed; and the heated debate usually ensues (although my kindhearted friend usually calls it "difference of opinions"). This Passover, unfortunately, was no exception.
One of her married sons, in the best traditions of young marrieds studying in the Holy Land, was visiting for the holidays. And he was not visiting alone. A friend of his youth, a freshly minted attorney at law, also came for a celebratory meal. The boisterous conversation was progressing just swimmingly till something I said produced a half-joking warning not to tangle with yours truly, because, apparently, once I am a member of the NRA, I will shoot anyone and everyone who disagrees with me.
Upon hearing this, young lawyer visibly perked up and asked me if indeed I was a member, and if yes, why. Foolishly, I actually explained. Gosh, when will I ever learn? To summarize our lively and pointless discussion, here are the pertinent points:
He is a Republican (G-d help us).
He hates to admit it, but Obama is doing a great job so far (please see above).
I did not read the text of the Second Amendment; otherwise I would know that there is no such thing as constitutionally guaranteed right to bear arms (his conviction on both points was a joy to behold).
Only because NRA is the most powerful lobby, did we ever get it into our heads that governmental gun control is unconstitutional (later grudgingly agreed with yours truly that enviros are the most powerful lobby, not NRA).
Government has full constitutional right to interfere in the economy (what in blazes did he study again?).
He did not vote, since in New York it does not make a difference anyway (please see numerous previous entries).
Tobacco tax is perfectly fine (even if the majority of smokers are psychiatric patients); because they are harming themselves, and we just tax them in order to pay for their medical expenses (please see number five and number one).
Constitution is “a living, breathing document", and Supreme Court has full right to mangle it any way they want (please see number five).
There were many more interesting points of contention. What really made me laugh was his sage agreement with me when I pointed out that Obama never proved his eligibility for the office as a person born as an American, which is a constitutional requirement.
Among many things, that discussion made me wonder again as to the precise definitions of constitutional law and constitutional lawyer. Aren't all our laws supposed to be constitutional, seeing as we are, well, Constitutional Republic? And aren't all lawyers supposed to be constitutional, meaning know the constitution and strictly adhere to it? Also, using another old cliché, if this dude thinks he hates liberals (while he already bought about half of their bilge), why do I need enemies with friends like this?
Please see number one.
This past Holiday, just like any other, was a chance to visit as many friends as my feet would allow. In the process, I have accumulated some noteworthy highlights. So, without further ado, here is part one.
There are two "American" families that I usually love to visit. The reasons for this love are manifold, but mainly it is because these people are so "un-Flatbushly" friendly, accepting, and non-judgmental. Also due to their friendliness, there is always a chance that I would see somebody who would grade on my nerves (but I usually try to accept the goodness with a bit of badness attached to it). Unfortunately, during the visits to one of these houses there is usually a fifty percent chance that one of the guests would irritate my nerves to the extent that those same nerves would not be able to keep my yup closed; and the heated debate usually ensues (although my kindhearted friend usually calls it "difference of opinions"). This Passover, unfortunately, was no exception.
One of her married sons, in the best traditions of young marrieds studying in the Holy Land, was visiting for the holidays. And he was not visiting alone. A friend of his youth, a freshly minted attorney at law, also came for a celebratory meal. The boisterous conversation was progressing just swimmingly till something I said produced a half-joking warning not to tangle with yours truly, because, apparently, once I am a member of the NRA, I will shoot anyone and everyone who disagrees with me.
Upon hearing this, young lawyer visibly perked up and asked me if indeed I was a member, and if yes, why. Foolishly, I actually explained. Gosh, when will I ever learn? To summarize our lively and pointless discussion, here are the pertinent points:
He is a Republican (G-d help us).
He hates to admit it, but Obama is doing a great job so far (please see above).
I did not read the text of the Second Amendment; otherwise I would know that there is no such thing as constitutionally guaranteed right to bear arms (his conviction on both points was a joy to behold).
Only because NRA is the most powerful lobby, did we ever get it into our heads that governmental gun control is unconstitutional (later grudgingly agreed with yours truly that enviros are the most powerful lobby, not NRA).
Government has full constitutional right to interfere in the economy (what in blazes did he study again?).
He did not vote, since in New York it does not make a difference anyway (please see numerous previous entries).
Tobacco tax is perfectly fine (even if the majority of smokers are psychiatric patients); because they are harming themselves, and we just tax them in order to pay for their medical expenses (please see number five and number one).
Constitution is “a living, breathing document", and Supreme Court has full right to mangle it any way they want (please see number five).
There were many more interesting points of contention. What really made me laugh was his sage agreement with me when I pointed out that Obama never proved his eligibility for the office as a person born as an American, which is a constitutional requirement.
Among many things, that discussion made me wonder again as to the precise definitions of constitutional law and constitutional lawyer. Aren't all our laws supposed to be constitutional, seeing as we are, well, Constitutional Republic? And aren't all lawyers supposed to be constitutional, meaning know the constitution and strictly adhere to it? Also, using another old cliché, if this dude thinks he hates liberals (while he already bought about half of their bilge), why do I need enemies with friends like this?
Please see number one.
Monday, April 20, 2009
ANOTHER SINCERE THANK YOU
Dear Janet Napolitano and (by association) Barak Hussein Obama,
Thank you to both of you from the bottom of my heart!
According to the latest Homeland Security Report, I am now officially a "right-wing extremist" because I am opposed to any and all government interference when it comes to the individual gun ownership. I also made the grade by being opposed to what you euphemistically call "immigration" and I call illegal invasion. According to that brilliant summation of yours, there are apparently "right-wing extremists" who "stockpiled" guns and ammo with express purposes of shooting "immigrants" crossing borders from Mexico. I am a little hazy on that one: is it not the job of the Border Patrol to shoot those "immigrants from Mexico" due to their blatant violation of our borders? Or, after Ramos and Compean, that job is now relegated to the "fringe elements" of our society?
Last, but not least, even though neither I personally, nor anyone close to me belonged to the Military at any given time; I deeply appreciate the cheap potshot your Report took at the veterans.
Another job well done!
Thank you to both of you from the bottom of my heart!
According to the latest Homeland Security Report, I am now officially a "right-wing extremist" because I am opposed to any and all government interference when it comes to the individual gun ownership. I also made the grade by being opposed to what you euphemistically call "immigration" and I call illegal invasion. According to that brilliant summation of yours, there are apparently "right-wing extremists" who "stockpiled" guns and ammo with express purposes of shooting "immigrants" crossing borders from Mexico. I am a little hazy on that one: is it not the job of the Border Patrol to shoot those "immigrants from Mexico" due to their blatant violation of our borders? Or, after Ramos and Compean, that job is now relegated to the "fringe elements" of our society?
Last, but not least, even though neither I personally, nor anyone close to me belonged to the Military at any given time; I deeply appreciate the cheap potshot your Report took at the veterans.
Another job well done!
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
HAPPY PASSOVER
To all my brothers and sisters (regardless of their religious affiliation or the lack of thereof), I wish Chag Kosher V'Sameach!
Here is to another wonderful holiday and all the craziness associated with it! To the poor bread eaten in freedom and to the animals that our masters worshiped and we sacrificed at the G-d's commend! Time to re-experience the miraculous liberation from slavery (mental as well as physical), to remember that we were chosen for a very special mission, and to re-affirm our faith.
Next Year in Jerusalem!
Here is to another wonderful holiday and all the craziness associated with it! To the poor bread eaten in freedom and to the animals that our masters worshiped and we sacrificed at the G-d's commend! Time to re-experience the miraculous liberation from slavery (mental as well as physical), to remember that we were chosen for a very special mission, and to re-affirm our faith.
Next Year in Jerusalem!
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
ABBA - Money, Money, Money
When I first heard this song, all it was for me was a very catchy beat with very mysterious words. Ah, the times have changed:)
MORE SHORT TAKES
Thank G-d, I live in this country for a little over twenty years. In this time I have managed to "adapt" to the good life. Sometimes, however, I still find myself in funny situations. One ordinary working day, I was doing "my usual": eating lunch and filing. For the "vegetable component" of my meal, I brought in a can of peas, which I just opened, and then proceeded to consume straight out of the can. Couple of guys stopped by to chat, and both of them were duly horrified by the fact that I was eating cold peas. A moment of mutual amazement: they can't comprehend my consumption of cold canned legumes, and I can't comprehend their astonishment. Ah, chuck it off to my childhood; after all, they will never appreciate the beauty of procuring deficient food items, or the deliciousness of the "Oliv'ye" salad due largely to those cold peas.
As heard on Leno: apparently, there is such a thing as "beady eye vegetarians". Translation: if something has "big, sad, soulful eyes" like a cow, it will not be eaten. If something has tiny beady eyes like salmon, it will be. Leno jokingly added that that sounds very LA: if you do not look just right, you would be eaten!
There are a few people in our office who are a bit on the neurotic bend. But one time somebody went a bit too far. Yours truly had to stay late to put the final touches on the payment requisition to the much respected New York City Department of Design and Construction, which, aside from preparing the said requisition (which is no mean feat), also requires submitting it in four copies. So, I went to the lower level to run those copies, and upon my return discovered that somebody took their evening routine a bit too seriously: they shot the lights, set the alarm, and locked all doors. And here was I, standing on the over side of the glass door, hugging the effing triplicate copies of the payment requisition, and longingly looking on my coat, which was hanging on the other side of the door (and which apparently the neurotic co-worker, busy with regular routine, failed to observe).
One of our junior architects was looking forward to his long weekend for about a month, and he was very vocal about it. On the Friday of his departure he mentioned his early leaving only about six times. Finally, that time arrived; he collected his belongings, and run out the door, barely remembering to say good bye. So, imagine my surprise when he re-appeared about fifteen minutes later. Poor schmuck was so excited; he left all his electronic devices at the office.
The closest book store to our office is Border’s. Unlike earth-sustainers, I do not see any harm in taking a plastic bag when needed, and then saving it for future use (and unlike them, I do not yell about it). Anyway, I had a good accumulation of Border’s bags in my drawer, and I used one of them to put my leftovers in the fridge. Next day, I went to check the fridge for those leftovers, and saw another Border’s bag in there. Ah, I thought, somebody else is doing the exact same thing. But then something about this other bag drew my attention; imagine my amusement when I realized that the second bag was also mine, and contained something else that I brought to the office and forgot about.
It looks like establishments serving kosher burgers have interesting concepts of what constitutes what. If you ask for well-done, you are going to get it burned. If you ask for medium, you are going to get it well-done. Just don’t request medium-rare, if you are not in the vicinity of a grill when you receive your order, because usually it requires additional cooking.
Recently, I had two separate and unrelated discussions with two Obama supporters. Both of them expressed total disbelief and incredulity upon discovering that it looks like our current so-called President’s IQ is only about 127. Speaking of somebody’s brilliance!
As told by one of my co-workers. He has a friend who is a social worker. At her place of employment, they do not get reimbursement for the cell phone usage; instead, they just get twenty five dollars a month towards whatever cell phone expanses they may incur. So, one day, when she realized that her battery was low, she just connected her phone to one of the office outlets, and continued with her work. Her supervisor, upon observing this, accused her of “double-dipping”, since she already receives her twenty five bucks for this. To which she replied that she would love to disconnect her charger, providing that the supervisor would take care of all the clients who would be unable to reach her in the event of the phone dying. Ah, administratium at work; what a thing of beauty!
Another gem from Leno’s monologue: “Recently, Iranian doctors discovered that drinking hot tea may cause throat cancer. This is the first thing they are not blaming on the Jews.”
As heard on Leno: apparently, there is such a thing as "beady eye vegetarians". Translation: if something has "big, sad, soulful eyes" like a cow, it will not be eaten. If something has tiny beady eyes like salmon, it will be. Leno jokingly added that that sounds very LA: if you do not look just right, you would be eaten!
There are a few people in our office who are a bit on the neurotic bend. But one time somebody went a bit too far. Yours truly had to stay late to put the final touches on the payment requisition to the much respected New York City Department of Design and Construction, which, aside from preparing the said requisition (which is no mean feat), also requires submitting it in four copies. So, I went to the lower level to run those copies, and upon my return discovered that somebody took their evening routine a bit too seriously: they shot the lights, set the alarm, and locked all doors. And here was I, standing on the over side of the glass door, hugging the effing triplicate copies of the payment requisition, and longingly looking on my coat, which was hanging on the other side of the door (and which apparently the neurotic co-worker, busy with regular routine, failed to observe).
One of our junior architects was looking forward to his long weekend for about a month, and he was very vocal about it. On the Friday of his departure he mentioned his early leaving only about six times. Finally, that time arrived; he collected his belongings, and run out the door, barely remembering to say good bye. So, imagine my surprise when he re-appeared about fifteen minutes later. Poor schmuck was so excited; he left all his electronic devices at the office.
The closest book store to our office is Border’s. Unlike earth-sustainers, I do not see any harm in taking a plastic bag when needed, and then saving it for future use (and unlike them, I do not yell about it). Anyway, I had a good accumulation of Border’s bags in my drawer, and I used one of them to put my leftovers in the fridge. Next day, I went to check the fridge for those leftovers, and saw another Border’s bag in there. Ah, I thought, somebody else is doing the exact same thing. But then something about this other bag drew my attention; imagine my amusement when I realized that the second bag was also mine, and contained something else that I brought to the office and forgot about.
It looks like establishments serving kosher burgers have interesting concepts of what constitutes what. If you ask for well-done, you are going to get it burned. If you ask for medium, you are going to get it well-done. Just don’t request medium-rare, if you are not in the vicinity of a grill when you receive your order, because usually it requires additional cooking.
Recently, I had two separate and unrelated discussions with two Obama supporters. Both of them expressed total disbelief and incredulity upon discovering that it looks like our current so-called President’s IQ is only about 127. Speaking of somebody’s brilliance!
As told by one of my co-workers. He has a friend who is a social worker. At her place of employment, they do not get reimbursement for the cell phone usage; instead, they just get twenty five dollars a month towards whatever cell phone expanses they may incur. So, one day, when she realized that her battery was low, she just connected her phone to one of the office outlets, and continued with her work. Her supervisor, upon observing this, accused her of “double-dipping”, since she already receives her twenty five bucks for this. To which she replied that she would love to disconnect her charger, providing that the supervisor would take care of all the clients who would be unable to reach her in the event of the phone dying. Ah, administratium at work; what a thing of beauty!
Another gem from Leno’s monologue: “Recently, Iranian doctors discovered that drinking hot tea may cause throat cancer. This is the first thing they are not blaming on the Jews.”
ON YESTERDAY'S POST
Sorry, everyone
For whatever reason (I do not feel like assigning the blame), this piece works on Youtube, but is disabled on my blog. That was basically the last five minutes from "The Working Girl"; if you already watched it, you should remember it, at least vaguely. If you did not, I strongly recommend it: it is very naive by today's standards, but very uplifting and quintessentially American. Plus, is has the now orphaned New York skyline as a prominent feature. So, hopefully, you will enjoy it.
For whatever reason (I do not feel like assigning the blame), this piece works on Youtube, but is disabled on my blog. That was basically the last five minutes from "The Working Girl"; if you already watched it, you should remember it, at least vaguely. If you did not, I strongly recommend it: it is very naive by today's standards, but very uplifting and quintessentially American. Plus, is has the now orphaned New York skyline as a prominent feature. So, hopefully, you will enjoy it.
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