Thinking like a push broom—or a leaf blower Jane and I are not engaged in conversation at the moment. We spoke some twenty minutes ago, before I came into the backyard, went to the garden shed, and got the black-moustached push broom that I now push. We are mellow, intimately connected—enjoying our crisp autumn straightening-up […]
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The Best $20 I gave away New York City. Manhattan. 2005. I had a presentation in Philly and extended the trip to visit my family of origin. It’s a humid Tuesday afternoon, and I’m picking up my niece at her Spanish language summer School slash day camp. Maya is almost 5. I love her hard.
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Cancel Culture—with God rB:“God, I have some thoughts I need to work out. You mind me using the artifice of an imagined conversation with you?” God:“Fair enough. Glad to help. Go ahead.” rB:“OK, so last night, I’m watching Family Guy with Emmett, and they do a homage to Bill Cosby’s Noah routine.
True Miracles “So whatever is bringing you from Los Angeles to Lynchburg,” asks the woman with the slight southern drawl next to me on the route from Dallas. “This airplane,” I tease and quickly follow up, “but seriously, a mentor of mine invited me to perform as part of a revue show at the Hyatt
Revelation: Love. As is. Not far from the first synagogue where I am working as a rabbi, on Ventura Boulevard, about a mile to the west of Lindsey Avenue, and just east of Balboa, I have a revelation. It happens as Jane and I are eating a sushi dinner. I am a pretentious New Yorker,
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The Embrace of Two Friends Laurence C. Keene I have two friends who just happen to be friends with each other as well. Amy and Stephanie have been friends for many years but while they agree on many things they do not agree on matters of religion and politics. Their effort at trying to
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Last week, the non-newsletter usually sent the last Monday of the month didn’t go out as planned. Coincidentally, last Monday was Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish calendar, a day, according to Leviticus 23:27, which is supposed to be a day of strict rest. I fast, as is traditional. (Although I do drink
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*Running out* Toilet paper. At the start of the pandemic, there was a run on the stuff. Off all shelves. Out of stores. Throughout the land. I never worried about it. And there was no need to worry. I don’t know of anyone who ran out. Peopleshared what they had until supplies were replenished. And
*Seeking Eureka* It’s Monday as I write this. (Last Monday, from the perspective of you reading this.) And I don’t know what I’m going to write today! Nothing my kids did recently is calling out to be told as a story with a moral. And usually over the weekend, something has popped into my mind,
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“Hey, Martha.” Less I’m on the phone catching up with someone. Anyone. The conversation agenda goes according to a set outline: Introductions: Greetings and “how-are-you”s Round 1: A few “Hey, Martha”s Round 2: Respective reports on health and activities of self and loved ones Round 3: Recommendations of some shows to watch or books to