The JackB

"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." Groucho Marx

Judaism

An Easy Fast Doesn’t Provide Atonement

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This happens to me…Every Year. In the days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur I become more restless and unsettled.

Every year I write posts about this and share thoughts about religion, casting away sins and self love.

There are levels of intolerance discussed within these pages. As a father I think about what sort of obligation I have towards my children and I ask myself if I am hitting the mark.

The Truck Driver

My son walks into my office today and tells me about how this truck driver intentionally blocked an aisle in the parking lot today and forced cars to drive the wrong way.

“Dad, he told mom and I to use common sense and go the other way.”

I asked him if the man was rude or polite. He says the guy was obnoxious.

“Dad, because he wouldn’t move mom and all these other cars had to drive the wrong way, we almost had an accident.”

His story sets me off and I ask for a description of the man. My son wants to know if he can go along for the ride and I say no. “Dad, I want to see what happens.”

I tell him not to worry and that I am going to take care of this. He looks at me and asks why I look so angry and I tell him that it the driver’s behavior is unacceptable and I am going to fix things.

As I walk out the door I hear multiple voices asking me to remain calm.I turn, smile and say don’t worry.

Five minutes later I reach the shopping center and the truck is still parked there. It is blocking an entire aisle so I am confident all I need to do is find the driver.

The Truck Driver

I see a man pushing a hand truck towards the juice store and I am certain he is the driver. I park my car, take pictures of the truck and head over to the store.

There is a juice store employee standing outside. I ask him if they normally receive deliveries at 4:15 and he says no. This one was supposed to be there at 7 Am.

“Why didn’t you tell him to move his truck to the far side of the lot so that he wouldn’t cause a traffic jam in the lot?” There is silence and then the employee shrugs his shoulders at me.

I explain why I am angry and mention that this store put my family at risk. It doesn’t matter who was driving. He is part of the problem. He says he is sorry and offers me a smoothie. I say no and then the driver reappears in front.”

“Did you tell a woman and a boy to use common sense?”

There is a hard edge in my voice and I feel my hands flexing. He tells me that he said use common sense but claims he was talking to himself.

“So you ignored your own advice, chose to block traffic and then almost created a six or seven car pile up.”

He takes a step backwards and apologizes, but I am not pacified.

“I am not a woman. I am not a 12 year-old boy. Tell me to use common sense. Ignore me. It is what you did before. Pretend your work is more important than the safety of others. Pretend that I am not the very angry father of the family you put at risk!”

I know I am on the verge of shouting. If he doesn’t apologize I am going to make the kind of scene he doesn’t want. But he does apologize again. He tells me the other driver was sick and that he is sorry.

“You should be thankful I wasn’t hear to see you put lives at risk. You should be thankful I am not any more upset than I am, but we aren’t through. I will submit a complaint. That is not me wagging my tongue. That is a promise.  Next time show some consideration for others.

Atonement

Night falls and I think about what happened. I don’t feel badly about what I said or that I filed a complaint. Safety comes first and there is no excuse for his parking his truck that way. I am certain he tried to take advantage of being a man who was faced with some children and angry moms.

Yet I can’t help but think of my own mistakes. I am not perfect. There are lots of things you can rap my knuckles for.

It won’t be long before Yom Kippur officially starts and my fast begins. It won’t be long before I have ample time to focus my attention again inwards and ask all the hard questions.

I read Torah every Yom Kippur for a little more than 25 years, but I haven’t read the last two and I miss it. Can’t decide why I miss it, but I know that I do. Not sure that it is important.

My gut tells me that the past several years have lead to this point and that we are on the verge of something really big. Good things are coming, or so I think. And so I take a moment to listen to the words of the songs below and to think.

Some words continue to remain unread.

The Time That Jack Got Drunk With 613 Rabbis

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It is almost time to celebrate the Jewish holiday of Purim. If you don’t want to use the link you can rely upon my trusty cliff notes on why we celebrate

They tried to kill us

We survived

They Lost

Let’s Eat.

My kids had great fun giving out Mishloach Manot which did not look as nice as those below, but that is ok, because the point isn’t to pass out the best looking, most expensive or most incredible baskets now is it. On the other hand I wouldn’t complain if we had the best Hamantaschen, because let’s face it that would be pretty cool, or maybe not.

Gaily wrapped baskets of sweets, drinks and ot...
Image via Wikipedia

My friend The Rebbetzin’s Husband has a post about drinking on Purim that is worth reading.  I know, not all of my readers are MOT (members of the tribe) so you aren’t familiar with the drinking that goes on. Nor are you likely to be conversant with discussions of how drunk Jews are or are not supposed to get on Purim.

Suffice it to say that I am not in favor of underage drinking nor will I be so drunk that my children wonder how dad can walk. I will however have more than a sniff and perhaps a snort. Rumor has it that a couple of the boys have a special bottle that we’ll enjoy after the Megillah reading and I can’t deny that I am sort of looking forward to it.

At the same time I don’t feel a need to be hungover later so I’ll be measured in my consumption. Nor can I tell you whether I will be in costume or not. I might. I know a few people who like to go in their pajamas but I don’t think that is me.

Loaned Hef my smoking jacket and never did get it back.

Anyhoo, it is almost time to run and some of you are going to ask about the time that I got drunk with 613 rabbis and yes, I have some stories. Hell, I have more than a few stories but I just don’t have time to tell them now. Perhaps I’ll share more later.

In the interim here some past posts about the holiday:

Timing & Time Management

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Life is nothing but a series of moments in time set against the backdrop of the people who share them.My goal is put myself in a position to savor and enjoy as much of that as possible. It is part of why I stopped wearing a watch. Those are the words I shared in a comment on my friend Kaarina’s post about time. Go read it, she makes some really good points.

Me? I am stuck in a moment that I can’t quite slip out of. I am lost in thought about a friend whose nine month old son died suddenly and another who lost her mother and sister this month. I am lost in thought about Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year and these words stick with me

“On Rosh Hashanah will be inscribed and on Yom Kippur will be sealed how many will pass from the earth and how many will be created; who will live and who will die; who will die at his predestined time and who before his time; who by water and who by fire, who by sword, who by beast, who by famine, who by thirst, who by storm, who by plague, who by strangulation, and who by stoning. Who will rest and who will wander, who will live in harmony and who will be harried, who will enjoy tranquillity and who will suffer, who will be impoverished and who will be enriched, who will be degraded and who will be exalted.“

The children ask me about this. They ask me for my thoughts and look up at me with wide eyed innocence wondering what I will say. The dark haired beauty wraps her hands around my bicep, “abba, make a muscle for me.” I smile and flex. She tells me that I am strong, but not stronger than G-d and then immediately looks into my eyes to see what sort of reaction I provide.

I tell her to go check the other muscle and then I lift her up and listen to her giggle. ‘There are two things that I want you and your brother to remember about this time of year.”  I pause for emphasis and then continue, “now is when you think about what kind of person you are and what kind you want to be.”

“You need to be good because it is the right thing to do and not because you are afraid of getting punished.” She nods her head and her brother finishes my thoughts for me, explains to her that we are responsible for our actions and for determining our future.

“Why did the baby die?” She must have overheard a conversation because I certainly didn’t tell her. “I don’t know. Sometimes there aren’t answers”

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I am working hard to take advantage of the opportunities that present themselves because life is short and I can’t stomach the idea of missing out on them. I am working on my writing and trying to assemble the pieces of a story that I see in my head. Pieces that remind me that The Rules Of Blogging are things that I have applied to it or maybe the story is something that I have applied to blogging.

And I remind myself that this moment that I am living in now is so very short and it is my obligation to push harder to do the things that I want to do and live the life I want to live.  That wacky Shmata Queen has been lurking around here and though she doesn’t comment she knows that I harp on certain things. She knows that when I play ball I love to rebound. Rebounding isn’t about height, speed or strength- it is about effort. It is about desire. It is about who is willing to run one step further and that is why basketball can be used as a metaphor for life.

+++++

There is a rhyme and a reason to why I use this joint to suss out my thoughts and declutter my mind. It is not because I can be a moody bastard or for anything other than because it helps me manage my time. And the way that it does that is by providing me with a venue in which I can determine what is most important to me. It provides a platform for me to speak to myself first in words that cannot be ignored. Read through these posts and you’ll see me illustrate how the past few years have had a bunch of rough spots. I don’t sugar coat it. While there have been great moments of joy there has been misery too.

This is where I call myself to the carpet and demand that I chart a new course based on what makes me happiest. This is where I start to map it out and that my friends is how I manage my time. I know where it is I am trying to go and what it is I am trying to do. Better to try to get there and fail than not to try at all.

And to my fellow MOTs I want to wish you all a Shana Tova Umetukah. May 5772 bring you all that you hope for and desire.

It Happened One Yom Kippur

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My post about Thomas inspired me to dig through my archives. I came across some really good posts that made me smile and decided to share a few with you. This is one of them. It was originally posted here.

My son may be five now but he is still young enough that it is not unusual for me to have to carry the sleeping boy from the car to his bed. Actually if I am not driving it is not all that unusual for me to sleep in the car, but then again I can sleep anytime, in any position and anywhere.

This evening reminded me of an experience that he and I shared a number of years ago. He might have been just short of two or maybe he was slightly older, I am not really sure. It was one of those powerful moments that imprint themselves on your brain in such a way that you remember them as if they happened in a different lifetime that took place yesterday.

Yes, that is an awkward way of phrasing it but I am not really sure of what words to use to describe it and surreal isn’t quite descriptive enough.

If I close my eyes I can see myself. I am wearing a doublebreasted black suit and a big black and white tallis. My tallis is quite large, actually it is a little bit too big for me but that is a separate story. My father is seated next to me and he is holding my son on his lap. The proud grandfather is beaming. His smile is as large as I have ever seen. He is playing peek-a-boo with his grandson, who is only too happy to use my tallis as the place in which he hides his face.

The time comes to say the Shmoneh Esreh and so we stand. Davening isoftendifficult for me so I often pull my tallis over my head and close my eyes so that I can really focus. As we rise my son reaches out for me and without thinking I take him into my arms and wrap my tallis around the two of us.

Now both of our heads are covered and we make eye contact. He smiles at me and I smile back. He is so very little and I see so much potential in him. For a moment I am choked up. I remember looking at that little face and blessing him. How could I not, it is one of the ways I have of trying to really express my love and appreciation for him and his sister.

When I finished he pulled me close and kissed my cheek. I remember that little body hugging me and within a moment or two he was asleep on my shoulder. I can remember shockeling to the tiny snores in my ear and really feeling my tefillah. It was one of those moments in time in which my own kavanah was exceptional and I really felt the connection to something greater than myself.

These are the moments that I treasure because I really do feel like I am getting a glimpse of a special place. It is a sneak preview of a world that I want to live in but I wonder if it really exists. I suppose that in time I may find out, until then I’ll continue my journey down the paths I discover and explore them to see what lies beyond the bend.

I Cast Away My Sins

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I cast away my sins today or I hope as I suspect that this year there were more than usual. I am not really sure what that means, but I feel like I need to say it. Standing at the cement banks of a man man lake I joined hundreds of others in feeding the ducks day old bread that symbolized my sins.

It is called Tashlich and it is an ancient ceremony that usually has a lot of meaning for me. This year I had trouble focusing. Perhaps it was concern that the dark haired beauty was going to fling herself into the water along with the bread or perhaps it was the lady who kept talking about cleveland, not sure.

What I do know is that at one point I closed my eyes and did my best to look inward and focus upon the moment. Oftentimes when I try to drown out the world around me I turn on a song on the mental jukebox. For some reason all I could hear was The Planets – Mars, the Bringer of War by Holst.

One section in particular stuck with me and I found myself wondering whether to laugh or cry. This is on my workout mix. It is something that I listen to when I am focused on lifting more. It fits well with trying to add another plate to the benchpress, less so with spiritual moments.

Ok, that is probably not entirely true, but it wasn’t really where I was trying to go with it. So I did my best to shuffle up a new song and came up with this. I get the connection, I am sure that John Williams was influenced by Holst. Certainly Darth Vader is a man who is in dire need of casting away his sins, but I am not him.

Confession time. If I had to go to the Dark Side I would always pick Darth Vader. Darth Maul had a cool double blade on his light saber, but the whole horns and Judaism thing doesn’t work for me. And the emperor just doesn’t do it. Nah, I’d be a 7 foot tall Sith lord with a cape and a bad attitude.

End of confession. Now we return you to your normally scheduled programming.

It took a moment but I finally managed to focus. I was surrounded by a sea of people but with my eyes closed I stood alone. Inside my mind I jumped off of a cliff into a sea of black. I could feel the air rushing by head and I really wasn’t sure when I was going to hit the bottom.

Had I been able to step outside my body I would have seen someone with their eyes clenched shut and a rigid back. Pretty sure that you would have seen my lips silently moving.

In short, I would have looked like I was crazy or constipated, maybe both.

But that is ok with me. I am in a period of transition and I have stopped trying to fight it. I accept that things are changing and that all I can do is deal with me. Depending upon who you are that can sound new agey or religious, but that doesn’t really matter to me. All that matters right now is riding out the storm.

If we continue along our Star Wars theme it feels a bit like when Obi-Wan fought Anakin. Ignore the bad acting and go with the theme. Anyway, I feel like the grizzled veteran who has seen incredible potential go up in flames. Perhaps it shall rise again like the phoenix, I don’t know.

Slowly opening my eyes I look down and see children staring up at me. The dark haired beauty and her friends are giggling the way that girls do. They may be five but I can see the future and I know that 20 years from now the giggling will still be there, but it will be accompanied by a certain amount of knowledge and life experience.

But right now I see happy girls who haven’t any idea that life can be so serious or that the grown ups don’t have all of the answers. That is ok with me, not having all of the answers. As much as I kvetch about it and wish that I could see the future there is a certain amount of excitement in not knowing everything. There is a joy and a rush in knowing that sometimes I may sail blindly, but with a purpose.

In the interim please excuse me. I have to go brush away the bread crumbs those giggling girls left on my pants and shoes.

Rosh Hashanah 5770- Jewish New Year Here I Come

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“There is a certain relief in change, even though it be from bad to worse! As I have often found in travelling in a stagecoach, that it is often a comfort to shift one’s position, and be bruised in a new place.” ~Washington Irving

“We spend our time searching for security and hate it when we get it.” ~John Steinbeck, America and Americans

“The calamity that comes is never the one we had prepared ourselves for.”
– Mark Twain Letter to Olivia Clemens, August 16, 1896

When I began writing this post I had high hopes of producing something profound and meaningful, but I am not so sure that I accomplished that. But I’d rather try and fail than not try at all.

Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year has come around again. It is a holiday that lends itself to blogging. Introspection and self reflection are key elements and so I find myself here at the keyboard struggling to produce a post that is worthwhile.

This video

may be a year old, but it really makes me think about life. So many familiar faces, but really how different is it from any other year. Without fail people die every day, year in, year out. So what is the message and what is the difference.

This has without question been one of the most challenging years I can remember. Lots of sleepless nights and stressful days. Long periods of time where I have found myself wondering if I should be superstitious. Moments where it seemed like things went from bad to worst to me laughing because it was laugh or cry. Times where I have looked up at the sky and screamed, “is that all you have got.”

In between there have been some really good times. Moments where it felt like the hot poker that had been jammed up my backside was gone and had never been inserted.

And then I turned 40.

Never before had one birthday bothered me. It didn’t matter whether I was 10, 18, 25 or 30, it was just another day. Forty didn’t feel like that. Forty felt…old. Forty made me look in the mirror and ask who was staring back at me. He didn’t look right, too many lines in the forehead and dark circles beneath the eyes. Not to mention that the famous flat top was gone and along with it was a chunk of hair.

More importantly the guy looking back at me was frustrated, angry and confused. He looked out and asked what happened to the kid with the indomitable spirit. That guy who figured that it didn’t matter if he fell into the fire because he’d dance through the flames and get a tan in the process.

The shmuck looking back at me looked like he had lain down in the flames and given up. That was disheartening, disconcerting and disappointing. So I made a conscious decision to find myself and if necessary, redefine who I am.

I am in the process of doing that. This is a transition. It is phase that I am dealing with with as much grace as I can muster. Things are better because I made them better. Things are better because I figured out a plan that seems to work for me, but it is not done yet.

The best analogy I have is that I feel a bit like Sisyphus in that I have pushed a boulder up a hill. Only there is no guarantee that it won’t roll back down and force me to start over. Then again there is no guarantee that it won’t.

Anyhoo we shall see what 5770 holds. I am optimistic and expect that good things should come. If you are curious to see past Rosh Hashanah posts or others that relate click on the links below:

The Impact of My Actions
Unetanah tokef
Yom Kippur- Besheret- Judgment & More
Another Day, Another Funeral- It is Elul
The New Year
Rosh Hashanah Thoughts
Why Me? Rosh Hashanah Thoughts