Precious Child

Precious child, you are a mystery to me.  Love and design entwined together have created you.  A spark has been kindled within you.  Now, it is from your own fire that the glow of life will come.

Precious child, you are a mystery to me.  Little by little what is hidden in you becomes visible.  The world is contained within you.  And, you are contained by the world.

We welcome you into our hearts, into our home, into our lives.

You are our dreams realized, our hope fulfilled.

You are the next chapter.  You are the future.  You are the span that links the generations.

You are love come alive.

Your life is a new story unfolding to be filled in by circumstance and experience.

You are our people’s history.  We welcome you home with blessings and with love.

May you bring your child into the way of Torah, Chuppah and Deeds of Loving Kindness: into the way of the Sacred, the way of ongoing life and into the way of love.

Blessed is the One, who causes parents to rejoice with their children.

Blessed is the Source, by whose power we exist and from whose glory we draw sustenance.  Blessed is our celebration of this joyous occasion.

Balloon Boy

Up in the air junior birdman…

Richard Heene, the father of Balloon Boy, is a schmuck!

He is proof in living color that greed rules, that deception and damages accrued are means to an end, that acting triumphs all and that media frenzy is your friend.

Heene was recently released from jail.

So here’s to you bubble brain, weather balloonatic, airhead and stratospheric sword swallower.  

 

You proved beyond a reasonable doubt that America is mostly all glittery surface, that 15 minutes of pretend terror is as gripping as a body of Oscar nominated work and that the wasting of time and resources is moral endeavor.

At least you launched a plethora of embarrassing Halloween costumes.  That will instruct other children to learn that life is either a Sitcom or more to the point, a reality based show!

To Paint the Town Latino Blue

On the way to bless a newborn baby, I drove through the most colorful section of San Francisco, the barrio!  I crossed Valencia, Mission and Van Ness.  I drove on 23^rd, 24^th and 25^th.  There, the walls of buildings, garages, fences and kiosks were covered with vibrant and searing murals.  These painted surfaces depicted a cultural history that constantly reminded the community of its deepest struggles.  There were on those walls stories of courage and of conviction, of faith and friendship, of heartache and of lost sweethearts.

That neighborhood is a Latino storybook that delivers its message in paint and in pigment: images of the field workers, of the strikers, of the missing and presumed dead by the actions of the killing squads.  There were pictures of poverty and images of the struggle for place and for purpose.  The walls were rich and saturated.  The walls were message boards for petitions and prayers.

I returned to the colors I remembered a week later and I memorized them.

Sexy

Sexy is hot and sexy is cool.

Sexy is what your wear and what you don't wear and where.

Sexy is a good look, a good book, a good idea and a good deed.

Sexy is the play of the beautiful people.

Sexy is a foreign accent spoken in sultry cinematic tones.

Sexy is humorous and creative.

Sexy is a special delivery and a package sent to another.

Sexy is subtle and seductive.

Sexy!

Play it again, Sam!

Play that heartbeat, the syncopation of the soul, the harmonies of the gods.

Play the feelings of the sounds, the passions of the notes, the emotions in the melodies.

Play the march and the lullaby, the concerto and the symphony, the riff and the rondo.

Play to express, to impress and to discover.

Play the reed, the shell and the hollow log.

Play the harp and the tumbrel and the horn.

Play the covers and the ballads and the show tunes.

Play the music of the night, the sounds of silence and love that rock and roll music.

if the shoe fits

If the shoe fits and if the conditions are applicable and if you are eligible and if you fit the requirements and if the position is a perfect match for your skills…well, then…

If you are an official member of the governmental hypocrisy and if you have ever taken performance enhancing or reality dulling or intensifying drugs and if you have ever been arrested or declared bankruptcy or if you are a cancer survivor or have another medical pre-condition…do you see where this is going?

The shoe fits now and again and when it does…it’s off to the Ball at the Palace for a dance with the Prince!

I Want To Be Under The Sea

Actually, I am allergic to fish.  And, my reaction is life threatening.  So, I will abstain, thank you very much.

But, thank god I can eat some of the forbidden fruit of the sea.  Go figure.  My docs say that’s very unusual and caution me to be careful.  It might some day cause a reaction resulting in severe shock and/or dire divine disappointment.  Either way, pass the Benadryl!

I despise Gefilta fish.  I remember when the women in my family would drive to the fish market on the river at 95^th Street in Chicago to buy the on ice ingredients for the Passover.  Bring it home, clean it, grind it and smush it into balls before boiling.  The emanating odor was so overpowering I could not stay in the house.  And I certainly would never eat it!  No amount of beet juice soaked horseradish root purée could help disguise the taste.

I had several aquariums over the years.  I have gone fishing several times.  Glass bottom boats aren’t so bad.  I went snorkeling once in the Sea of Aqaba, known as the Gulf of Eliat.  Nice experience.  It’s not that I hate fish.  It’s just that we inhabit separate realms.  Let them be, is my motto.

Really, a Great White or a Shamu will never sink its fangs into me. 

But wait, I love the ocean.  Feels as if I am a water person even though I am a sun sign Leo.  I would rather be at the beach than in the mountains where lions and bears live.  A walk near the water is just fine with me.  The worst thing that might happen to me while walking at Stinson Beach is that a hang glider may crash into me.  I’ll take my chances.

A Faded Rose from Days Gone Bye

The sun bleaches, wind blown sand scrapes, rushing water wears smooth, fire turns all that it touches into ash and dust.  Pressure packed moving continental plates reduce cities to rubble, the tsunami wipes the slate clean and the blizzard dampens sound, and paints the earth in monochromic whites.

These images depict an instance of color captured in the midst of its own changing nature.  The color of a photograph or of an advertising poster shifts from vibrant to pale, from vibrant to dull, from vibrant to washed-out blue.  Such is the path of light from source to dark and from one form of energy to another.

And although the moment of change is captured instantly in digital numbers, and since light travels faster than the eye can track and the mind can comprehend, what you are looking at, change itself, just isn’t happening.  Go figure!

The Philosopher, Confucius, Used to Say:

(I thought these sayings were hysterical -- when I was 12!  Now, they are just politically and socially incorrect.  Hopefully you will not read the old jokes and go directly to the fine art photographs.)

“Crowded elevator smell different to midget!”

“Man who fly airplane upside down have crack up!”

"Before becoming master fisherman, must be master baiter."

"If you want pretty nurse, you got to be patient."

"Man who eat photo of father, soon spitting image of father."

Man who jump off cliff jump to conclusion!"

"Baseball is wrong.  Man with four balls cannot walk."

"He who chase car will get exhausted."

“Man who cut self while shaving, lose face.”

“Man who pushes piano down mineshaft get tone of A flat miner.”

“Man who sneezes without tissue takes matters in his own hands.”

“Man who drive like hell, bound to get there.”

“War doesn't determine who is right, war determines who is left.”

Amusements

We surround our fragile psyches with make-believe worlds.  When lonely, afraid or feeling the slings and arrows of powerlessness, we get on board an elephant to the moon or ride in a yellow submarine beneath the Blue Lagoon.  The corn dogs, cotton candy and saltwater taffy help take us away to simpler, more innocent times.

Merry-go-rounds, rollercoasters, smash bumper cars and people movers place us on a trajectory that avoids consequence and responsibility.  As long as we pass the height requirement, hold on tightly and keep our hands inside the g-force moving cars, we will be fine.

And always remember:

Fun is fun.  That’s why work, worry and feeling weary is never called that!