My phone bill is going down
Over the past year, I've received an email from my phone company on two different occasions telling me that my monthly bill was going down. I use www.vonage.com which, if you have high-speed Internet at home, is a very appealing way to get UNLIMITED LOCAL AND LONG DISTANCE plus all of the features for about $30/month.
PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU ARE INTERESTED, AS A REFERRAL FROM ME WILL GET EACH OF US 1 FREE MONTH.
Monday, May 31, 2004
My daughter is very cute and cuddly right now. She fits into my arms so well, but the fact that she can't communicate sometimes is really rough. At night, she'll occasionally have what appears to be a nightmare or during the day, start crying for no reason (though I have to say this kid is really low maintenance in general) and it just kills me that I don't know what is bothering her and I don't know how to help her.
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
Companies spend a lot of time (particularly in the post 9/11 world) thinking about issues like 'Business Continuity (BC)' and "Disaster Recovery (DR)." They want to know that all things will keep on working smoothly even if the totally unexpected occurs.
On a career level, however, most people don't really do a good job of having that plan in place. The Dalai Lama, in his book, "The Art of Happiness" suggests that people should think about painful situations that may occur to them and how they would react at that time. Then, if that event hits you, you don't panic, and you have a sense of inner calm and you know what to do.
Given the age we live in and knowing, at least rationally, that any day you could walk into your office and get a pink slip, why don't each of us spend time building a BC/DR plan for our careers. Think about what you would do and what plan you would put in place. The time to think about Plan B is not when Plan A fails. Then, if that moment hits you, instead of sitting in a funk for 3 months and trying to figure out how to overcome your sense of worthlessness, you know what you need to do. You take a quick breath and you're off.
We all know that we're all expendable. We all also know that each of us has value to offer. Now is the time to think about how you would create value for another person/organization, etc. if your current revenue stream were to suddenly dry up.
On a career level, however, most people don't really do a good job of having that plan in place. The Dalai Lama, in his book, "The Art of Happiness" suggests that people should think about painful situations that may occur to them and how they would react at that time. Then, if that event hits you, you don't panic, and you have a sense of inner calm and you know what to do.
Given the age we live in and knowing, at least rationally, that any day you could walk into your office and get a pink slip, why don't each of us spend time building a BC/DR plan for our careers. Think about what you would do and what plan you would put in place. The time to think about Plan B is not when Plan A fails. Then, if that moment hits you, instead of sitting in a funk for 3 months and trying to figure out how to overcome your sense of worthlessness, you know what you need to do. You take a quick breath and you're off.
We all know that we're all expendable. We all also know that each of us has value to offer. Now is the time to think about how you would create value for another person/organization, etc. if your current revenue stream were to suddenly dry up.
Thursday, May 13, 2004
You know when people say that their kids grow up so quickly? Well, it seems cliche, but I'm finally in that boat and Calanit is only 5 months old. On Sunday, I had to adjust the straps on her car seat as she had grown out of the first size and I found myself getting very emotional.
It's such a tough balance. On the one hand, I want to be home with her, play with her, and watch her develop. On the other hand, I've got to be out there and earn the money to support the family and give her all that I want her to have.
It's really amazing and difficult to contemplate how much love you have for this little being, so innocent, so beautiful, and who represents so much.
I love those profound moments when I look at her and just think how she will (G-d willing) outlive me, have children and grandchildren of her own, and one day, like all of us, come to the end. But, there's hopefully so much between now and then, an unwritten book, or a book with nothing but blank pages on which she will write the story of her life. I'm so excited to see it and nervous that I won't be there.
All of these tragedies that people face, untimely death, disease, etc., they weigh so much more heavily now that I have a daughter.
It's such a tough balance. On the one hand, I want to be home with her, play with her, and watch her develop. On the other hand, I've got to be out there and earn the money to support the family and give her all that I want her to have.
It's really amazing and difficult to contemplate how much love you have for this little being, so innocent, so beautiful, and who represents so much.
I love those profound moments when I look at her and just think how she will (G-d willing) outlive me, have children and grandchildren of her own, and one day, like all of us, come to the end. But, there's hopefully so much between now and then, an unwritten book, or a book with nothing but blank pages on which she will write the story of her life. I'm so excited to see it and nervous that I won't be there.
All of these tragedies that people face, untimely death, disease, etc., they weigh so much more heavily now that I have a daughter.
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
Another truly eye-opening piece by Samuel Z. Anvil.
You’ll be happy to know that Sam Z. Anvil has his own blog now (called “Dhimmi No More” at http://samzanvil.blogspot.com/), where you can check out his columns and find out more about him.
What’s Behind the Double Standard
By Samuel Z. Anvil
Oh, the humiliation! The horror! No wonder the press cries out! Worldwide revulsion, disgust and Moslem rage! Shame on you!
Of course they’re not speaking about what Saddam did to his own people: the gassings, the rapes, the strangulations, the mass graves, etc. Or any of the atrocities countless Moslem leaders inflicted on their fellow Moslems over the years. But why not? Weren’t those things disgusting too? Is there something going on here that ordinary people like you and me don’t understand?
Well, actually there is. But it’s all very simple really, and it makes perfect sense to Moslems. It’s only we infidels who have difficulty understanding it.
You see, in the Islamic view of things, the lives of infidel kafirs like us (Christians, Jews and everybody else), are “worth” something between a Moslem woman and a camel. I’ll bet you didn’t think there was room between those two lowly categories to fit a fingernail, let alone the vast majority of human beings on this planet, but there is. There’s room for each and every one of us. It’s another of Allah’s miracles.
At the top of the heap are Moslem men, Masters of the Universe, the purpose of all creation, the exclusive custodians of the eternal Truth, and the people whose feet we kafirs should all be kissing. Below them are Moslem women, whose job it is to wash those feet. Below them, us, then camels and other useful creatures like sheep that don’t make too much of a fuss when a Moslem man whips out his knife.
So when a Moslem man tears out another Moslem’s fingernails and rapes his daughters and slits all their throats, well that’s just the way things are in Allah’s happy little family. And when a Moslem man shoots dead a pregnant dhimmi woman and her four daughters as they drive through a part of the world he thinks belongs to him (and of course every square inch of this planet rightfully belongs to Moslems and to nobody else), well, that’s his natural-born right as Master of the Universe. Even the kafirs of Europe don’t dare deny him that right.
But if a kafir, a dhimmi, one of those so-called people whose role in this life is to be properly submissive to and respectful of his Moslem betters, should turn around and strike back, well that’s completely unthinkable. It’s against Allah’s holy law. It’s as though a wife should, perish the thought, hit back when her husband beats her. It’s a shameful humiliation, a travesty of Allah’s creation, it can’t be allowed to stand, and it “fuels Islamic rage.”
It’s shameful and humiliating because what the dhimmi is saying when he strikes back is that maybe, just maybe, Moslem men are not the pinnacle of all creation, the reason why the whole universe exists. And when the dhimmi creates a free society in which people have real hope of better lives, while Moslem men use their oil billions to create one hellhole after another, the dhimmi is saying: “Don’t give me this crap about how wonderful you are, and how Allah himself has chosen you to rule the world.”
And that is a message no Master of the Universe wants to hear. Not from his wives, not from his slaves (and yes, they do have slaves in this twenty-first Christian century), and certainly not from the dhimmis, the sons of pigs and monkeys. So he runs for refuge to his holy books, which tell him to – guess what? – kill the infidel! And if it’s not possible to kill the infidel right now, to do what Prophet did: lie to the infidel, make a false peace while you prepare for war, and plan for the long term. Send him your masses to overwhelm his country with the fruits of your wombs, take advantage of the kafir’s unsuspecting nature, use his democratic laws and rights to undermine his society, enlist the help of the dull-witted, remind him of his wars against you and when he mentions your wars against him, call him a racist, and in the end – maybe a hundred years from now, maybe a thousand – you will finally rule the world as Allah intended. Patience. The infidel is too stupid to understand what you are doing.
And that is how the dhimmi world came to recoil in revulsion at photos of Moslem prisoners being abused, while the Islamic world danced for joy at the photos of the charred bodies of murdered dhimmi hanging from a bridge.
Do you understand now?
You’ll be happy to know that Sam Z. Anvil has his own blog now (called “Dhimmi No More” at http://samzanvil.blogspot.com/), where you can check out his columns and find out more about him.
What’s Behind the Double Standard
By Samuel Z. Anvil
Oh, the humiliation! The horror! No wonder the press cries out! Worldwide revulsion, disgust and Moslem rage! Shame on you!
Of course they’re not speaking about what Saddam did to his own people: the gassings, the rapes, the strangulations, the mass graves, etc. Or any of the atrocities countless Moslem leaders inflicted on their fellow Moslems over the years. But why not? Weren’t those things disgusting too? Is there something going on here that ordinary people like you and me don’t understand?
Well, actually there is. But it’s all very simple really, and it makes perfect sense to Moslems. It’s only we infidels who have difficulty understanding it.
You see, in the Islamic view of things, the lives of infidel kafirs like us (Christians, Jews and everybody else), are “worth” something between a Moslem woman and a camel. I’ll bet you didn’t think there was room between those two lowly categories to fit a fingernail, let alone the vast majority of human beings on this planet, but there is. There’s room for each and every one of us. It’s another of Allah’s miracles.
At the top of the heap are Moslem men, Masters of the Universe, the purpose of all creation, the exclusive custodians of the eternal Truth, and the people whose feet we kafirs should all be kissing. Below them are Moslem women, whose job it is to wash those feet. Below them, us, then camels and other useful creatures like sheep that don’t make too much of a fuss when a Moslem man whips out his knife.
So when a Moslem man tears out another Moslem’s fingernails and rapes his daughters and slits all their throats, well that’s just the way things are in Allah’s happy little family. And when a Moslem man shoots dead a pregnant dhimmi woman and her four daughters as they drive through a part of the world he thinks belongs to him (and of course every square inch of this planet rightfully belongs to Moslems and to nobody else), well, that’s his natural-born right as Master of the Universe. Even the kafirs of Europe don’t dare deny him that right.
But if a kafir, a dhimmi, one of those so-called people whose role in this life is to be properly submissive to and respectful of his Moslem betters, should turn around and strike back, well that’s completely unthinkable. It’s against Allah’s holy law. It’s as though a wife should, perish the thought, hit back when her husband beats her. It’s a shameful humiliation, a travesty of Allah’s creation, it can’t be allowed to stand, and it “fuels Islamic rage.”
It’s shameful and humiliating because what the dhimmi is saying when he strikes back is that maybe, just maybe, Moslem men are not the pinnacle of all creation, the reason why the whole universe exists. And when the dhimmi creates a free society in which people have real hope of better lives, while Moslem men use their oil billions to create one hellhole after another, the dhimmi is saying: “Don’t give me this crap about how wonderful you are, and how Allah himself has chosen you to rule the world.”
And that is a message no Master of the Universe wants to hear. Not from his wives, not from his slaves (and yes, they do have slaves in this twenty-first Christian century), and certainly not from the dhimmis, the sons of pigs and monkeys. So he runs for refuge to his holy books, which tell him to – guess what? – kill the infidel! And if it’s not possible to kill the infidel right now, to do what Prophet did: lie to the infidel, make a false peace while you prepare for war, and plan for the long term. Send him your masses to overwhelm his country with the fruits of your wombs, take advantage of the kafir’s unsuspecting nature, use his democratic laws and rights to undermine his society, enlist the help of the dull-witted, remind him of his wars against you and when he mentions your wars against him, call him a racist, and in the end – maybe a hundred years from now, maybe a thousand – you will finally rule the world as Allah intended. Patience. The infidel is too stupid to understand what you are doing.
And that is how the dhimmi world came to recoil in revulsion at photos of Moslem prisoners being abused, while the Islamic world danced for joy at the photos of the charred bodies of murdered dhimmi hanging from a bridge.
Do you understand now?
Sunday, April 25, 2004
Can Lawyers survive the Internet revolution?
I'm definitely coming around to the idea that the Internet revolution (we're only at the beginning) is as big or bigger than the Industrial revolution. The world will be as different as a result.
I've started taking an online graduate course at www.capella.edu It's a fascinating process. We all have a textbook, receive homework, must post comments and respond to our classmates, and submit a term paper. The flexibility is tremendous and with profiles and pictures of my classmates, I have begun to identify with some of them. It costs $1630 per 4 credit course, so it isn't cheap, but there's value and the fact that the class conforms to my schedule-not the other way around-is of tremendous value.
I've heard a lot recently about law firms becoming more and more open, shall we say, about the fact that they are a business and the need for associates who wish to become partner to really show their value-add to the firm. It seems that if you are managing a business, you want to minimize the costs associated with the internal processes. One of these, for a law firm, is the document related work that junior associates perform.
So, it seems like there is a market opportunity for an ABA accredited law school to start offering online courses and degrees to foreign, English speaking students (India, Ireland, or Ghana, for example) as a way to generate additional revenue. Since, I'm told, you don't need to be an American citizen in order to be a member of the Bar, those students could take a course (either online or in person-perhaps a law firm would fund the trip) and get certified for the Bar. Then, instead of the $110k or whatever a 1st year associate gets paid, the firm could pay a foreign-born, foreign-living, American law school-educated, Bar member associate 1/3rd or 1/2 of that. Some of the savings would be passed on to clients, the rest goes into the partners' pockets.
It may not happen overnight, but why not?
I'm definitely coming around to the idea that the Internet revolution (we're only at the beginning) is as big or bigger than the Industrial revolution. The world will be as different as a result.
I've started taking an online graduate course at www.capella.edu It's a fascinating process. We all have a textbook, receive homework, must post comments and respond to our classmates, and submit a term paper. The flexibility is tremendous and with profiles and pictures of my classmates, I have begun to identify with some of them. It costs $1630 per 4 credit course, so it isn't cheap, but there's value and the fact that the class conforms to my schedule-not the other way around-is of tremendous value.
I've heard a lot recently about law firms becoming more and more open, shall we say, about the fact that they are a business and the need for associates who wish to become partner to really show their value-add to the firm. It seems that if you are managing a business, you want to minimize the costs associated with the internal processes. One of these, for a law firm, is the document related work that junior associates perform.
So, it seems like there is a market opportunity for an ABA accredited law school to start offering online courses and degrees to foreign, English speaking students (India, Ireland, or Ghana, for example) as a way to generate additional revenue. Since, I'm told, you don't need to be an American citizen in order to be a member of the Bar, those students could take a course (either online or in person-perhaps a law firm would fund the trip) and get certified for the Bar. Then, instead of the $110k or whatever a 1st year associate gets paid, the firm could pay a foreign-born, foreign-living, American law school-educated, Bar member associate 1/3rd or 1/2 of that. Some of the savings would be passed on to clients, the rest goes into the partners' pockets.
It may not happen overnight, but why not?
Sunday, April 18, 2004
Building the Value of YOUR Network...
At this point in our careers, we are well aware of the importance and value of our respective business networks. It’s no secret that a large part of our future success depends on our effectiveness in nurturing and growing our networks.
The question I’m struggling with now is: “what is the best way for any of us to add value to each person in our networks of contacts in a way that can scale up to address a (hopefully) ever-growing number of people?”
The evolving business network oriented sites like http://www.linkedin.com/, www.spoke.com and www.ryze.com seem to be one component of this strategy, but they don’t address the fundamental question. What part is “science” and what part is “art?” It’s great if you know who is in your network, but you need some way to gauge the value that you are delivering to each person based on their unique sets of requirements and expectations.
Companies that implement a CRM (Customer Relationship Management) strategy obviously face this, but on an individual level, we face this as well. And perhaps, we would expect more personal touches from individuals than large, faceless corporations. On the flip side, however, with time constraints facing all of us, the more you can automate, the lower your costs, but what are the trade-offs?
For a simple example, I use Outlook’s feature to record the birthdays and anniversaries of most people I know. Then, I either email or call them on that day. That’s some art, some science. In some cases, I use a template for a “Happy Birthday” email, some science there. But if the entire process were automated and I didn’t even know that it was your birthday and some script on the computer just generated the email, would that be sufficient? Do you care? People generally appreciate hearing from me (or so I am told) on their birthdays and it gives me an annual excuse/impetus to just check-in which I enjoy as well, but is this sufficient to fall under the category of adding value? Would you rather hear some idea that will help you professionally or get a call from me wishing you Happy Birthday?
In Love Is the Killer App: How to Win Business and Influence Friends
Tim Sanders suggests that it is the process of sharing knowledge and idea to help your network learn and grow that adds value.
That may be true, but is a mass, but personalized email (using Outlook2003 and Word2003) the best forum for doing that? How do I really know what you’d like to learn or hear about? Should I have a comprehensive database that I search and contact when I finish a book like Jim Collins’ Good to Great: Why Some Companies Make the Leap... and Others Don't
, so I can write a mini book report and send it to those who are interested in management ideas and what turns competent companies into superior companies?
Perhaps I can set up a survey at www.surveymonkey.com to ask people, but then there is no easy way for me to track, sort, and communicate based on those responses, without investing a hell of a lot of time. Essentially, perhaps what I am suggesting is that the day is coming (has come) when each of us who are part of the knowledge economy will need to develop a personal Network Relationship Management strategy that will enable each of us to automate those elements that can be put into a process and keep enough room for the ‘Art,’ remembering that we’re dealing with real human beings on the other end of the line.
Looking forward to hearing from you on how we can answer this question.
The question I’m struggling with now is: “what is the best way for any of us to add value to each person in our networks of contacts in a way that can scale up to address a (hopefully) ever-growing number of people?”
The evolving business network oriented sites like http://www.linkedin.com/, www.spoke.com and www.ryze.com seem to be one component of this strategy, but they don’t address the fundamental question. What part is “science” and what part is “art?” It’s great if you know who is in your network, but you need some way to gauge the value that you are delivering to each person based on their unique sets of requirements and expectations.
Companies that implement a CRM (Customer Relationship Management) strategy obviously face this, but on an individual level, we face this as well. And perhaps, we would expect more personal touches from individuals than large, faceless corporations. On the flip side, however, with time constraints facing all of us, the more you can automate, the lower your costs, but what are the trade-offs?
For a simple example, I use Outlook’s feature to record the birthdays and anniversaries of most people I know. Then, I either email or call them on that day. That’s some art, some science. In some cases, I use a template for a “Happy Birthday” email, some science there. But if the entire process were automated and I didn’t even know that it was your birthday and some script on the computer just generated the email, would that be sufficient? Do you care? People generally appreciate hearing from me (or so I am told) on their birthdays and it gives me an annual excuse/impetus to just check-in which I enjoy as well, but is this sufficient to fall under the category of adding value? Would you rather hear some idea that will help you professionally or get a call from me wishing you Happy Birthday?
In Love Is the Killer App: How to Win Business and Influence Friends
Tim Sanders suggests that it is the process of sharing knowledge and idea to help your network learn and grow that adds value.That may be true, but is a mass, but personalized email (using Outlook2003 and Word2003) the best forum for doing that? How do I really know what you’d like to learn or hear about? Should I have a comprehensive database that I search and contact when I finish a book like Jim Collins’ Good to Great: Why Some Companies Make the Leap... and Others Don't
, so I can write a mini book report and send it to those who are interested in management ideas and what turns competent companies into superior companies?Perhaps I can set up a survey at www.surveymonkey.com to ask people, but then there is no easy way for me to track, sort, and communicate based on those responses, without investing a hell of a lot of time. Essentially, perhaps what I am suggesting is that the day is coming (has come) when each of us who are part of the knowledge economy will need to develop a personal Network Relationship Management strategy that will enable each of us to automate those elements that can be put into a process and keep enough room for the ‘Art,’ remembering that we’re dealing with real human beings on the other end of the line.
Looking forward to hearing from you on how we can answer this question.
Thursday, April 15, 2004
Received from my grandfather, Stanley Robinson:
Keep this philosophy in mind the next time you are about to repeat rumour or hearsay
In ancient Greece (469 - 399 BC), Socrates was widely lauded for his wisdom. One day the great philosopher came upon an acquaintance who ran up to him excitedly and said, "Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students?"
"Wait a moment," Socrates replied. "Before you tell me I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Triple Filter Test."
"Triple filter?"
"That's right," Socrates continued. "Before you talk to me about my student let's take a moment to filter what you're going to say. The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"
"No," the man said, "actually I just heard about it"
"All right," said Socrates. "So you don't really know if it's true or not. Now let's try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?"
"No, on the contrary..."
"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about him, even though you're not certain it's true?" The man shrugged, a little embarrassed. Socrates continued. "You may still pass the test though, because there is a third filter, the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be useful to me?"
"No, not really"
Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?"
The man was defeated and ashamed. This is the reason Socrates was a great philosopher and held in such high esteem. It also explains why he never found out that Plato was shagging his wife.
Keep this philosophy in mind the next time you are about to repeat rumour or hearsay
In ancient Greece (469 - 399 BC), Socrates was widely lauded for his wisdom. One day the great philosopher came upon an acquaintance who ran up to him excitedly and said, "Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students?"
"Wait a moment," Socrates replied. "Before you tell me I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Triple Filter Test."
"Triple filter?"
"That's right," Socrates continued. "Before you talk to me about my student let's take a moment to filter what you're going to say. The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"
"No," the man said, "actually I just heard about it"
"All right," said Socrates. "So you don't really know if it's true or not. Now let's try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?"
"No, on the contrary..."
"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about him, even though you're not certain it's true?" The man shrugged, a little embarrassed. Socrates continued. "You may still pass the test though, because there is a third filter, the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be useful to me?"
"No, not really"
Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?"
The man was defeated and ashamed. This is the reason Socrates was a great philosopher and held in such high esteem. It also explains why he never found out that Plato was shagging his wife.
We just took our first family airline trip with Calanit. I think it's easier to invade Iraq than to travel with an infant. I jest, but it does take a heck of a lot more strategic planning and a bit more muscle to do it. We were gone for five days and I planned about a week in advance, gave ourselves plenty of time, spent a bit more in tips than I usually do, and had to lug a few more bags, but I am very proud of the degree of execution that we accomplished. Team Epstein did a great job.
I've rediscovered the value of the business suit. For years, I swore I'd never wear a tie again, but recently, I've come to see the value of it. I guess I'm getting older (maturing?). It conveys a degree of seriousness and confidence and professionalism. I feel like I act a bit more professional while in it as well. Who knows? If I wore it every day, I may not feel that way.
Saturday, April 03, 2004
One of the most majestic things I've experienced since Calanit's is watching the nightly "fight to stay awake." She's exhausted and we know she's going out for the count, but she keeps trying to stay awake. It's like she knows the world is a wonderful place and she doesn't want to miss anything. She wants to keep on seeing things, but she just can't keep her eyes open even though she tries. What a far cry from later in life when we yearn and beg for sleep as a needed break from the world.
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
Good to Great D'var Torah
This is the d'var torah on Apr. 3rd. I'll be delivering it at the Hashkama minyan (the 7am one) and it'll differ probably in delivery since I will probably ad-lib more, but you'll get the idea.
It's for a uniquely Jewish/business-minded crowd (and of course a few Rabbis).
The students of business among you may be familiar with an author by the name of Jim Collins. Best known perhaps for his book, Built to Last, his most recent best-seller is entitled “Good to Great,” where he describes the characteristics that enable competent companies to make the transition to superior companies.
This week’s Parsha, Tzav, illustrates some of these characteristics. For example, you need
· Level 5 leadership (a selfless persona devoted to the long-term success of the company more than to his own ego),
· to have the “right people on the bus” and the “wrong people off the bus”
· and a culture of disciplined thought and action.
It’s easy to dismiss Parsha Tzav as tedious. Trust me, I know. 18 years ago today, I delivered the obligatory Bar Mitzvah d’var Torah on it. Perhaps that’s why I chose to focus on the lone shalshelet outside of Breishit for my topic.
I mean, what difference does it really make if we put a drop of blood on the right toe of the kohen, what part of the bull can be eaten, what the appropriate amount for a meal offering is, or that if a vessel of clay become impure we must break it, but if it is brass, we must only scour it completely?
These are nice, but are they really relevant? Unfortunately, for those of you craving cholent and scotch right about now, they are.
The operative word in this parsha is Tzav, literally “command.” Rashi suggests that the imperative form of the verb creates a sense of urgency and immediacy. He comments that Tzav implies “zerizut miyad & l'dorot,” meaning do something eagerly, do it immediately AND do it for future generations.
The corporate sponsor for this week should be Nike, “Just do it!”
Even if you don't think it's relevant, you should do it, besides the change now is easier than the change that will be required later. I call this my “Iceberg Theory of Change.”
A few years ago, I saw a documentary about oil rigs in the North Atlantic. The biggest enemy of oil rigs are icebergs. In a confrontation between the two, the iceberg is going to win. So, oil rigs have an elaborate anti-iceberg defense mechanism that involves radars and tugboats. Once they detect an iceberg coming, they send out a tugboat interceptor, which has three options. One is to try and blow the iceberg to smithereens. The other two (literally lassoing the iceberg or throwing the engines in reverse in front of the iceberg to create wake) are designed to alter the course of the iceberg by a miniscule amount. However, at a distance of 300 miles, a deviation of a few degrees or so will make the iceberg miss the rig by 200 miles or something ridiculous like that (the mathematicians out there can give you the exact numbers, but you get the idea.)
So, what’s the point? Well, the sooner you see the need for change and the sooner you make the change, the easier it is going to be. It’s easier to change the course of an iceberg by 1 degree than 30 degrees, which is what you’d need to do as it gets closer to you.
Rashi’s point is that your actions now are going to, in large part, determine your actions in the future. There’s no point in saying “I’ll keep shabbos when I get married” or “ I’ll daven every day when I have kids who are old enough to understand.” If you attach value to it, you should start doing it now.
The details of the process are what sanctify the end result.
Judaism does a great job of infusing the mundane with the sacred by making each step unique and holy and thus making the entire process, not just the end result holy.
In Tzav, we see that you just can’t get up and decide that you will make a sacrifice. In Good to Great, Jim Collins shows us how you just can’t “poof” become a Great company. Similarly, you can’t just show up at a Seder and expect to fulfill the mitzvah of “Higadta Le Vincha.” I would submit that your ability to wholly fulfill this mitzvah is pre-conditioned on the degree of your engagement in the discipline of it all that is required to prepare for the Seder/Chag and in your ability/conscious choice to revel in it.
Why? If you just show up at a seder, it’s a meal like any other meal. Your children are supposed to ask you “Mah Nistahna?” but with no real reason to ask this question, they are just meeting expectations. If, however, they see the joyous effort that goes into the preparation and the opportunity to meaningfully engage in work where others simply bemoan it, there’s a better chance that they will AUTHENTICALLY wonder “hey, what’s going on here? Why am I schlepping all of these dishes? Something is different and I’d like to know what.” Or, as I’d prefer to quote that 80’s classic Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, “strange things are afoot at the Circle K.”
The mitzvah of Vehigadta leVincha requires this genuine discourse and its fulfillment is in line with the trait described by Collins of having a greater commitment to the success of the organization than the self. Perhaps we can take comfort in the fact that despite all of the bad news about Jewish continuity, 92% of American Jews attend at least one seder (that’s more than go to shul on Yom Kippur) and this attendance with its concurrent obligation for everyone to participate either as a speaker or a listener in the Vhigadeta LeVincha mitzvah (it’s almost like a board meeting on a national level) means that most of us are committed to the long-term success of the organization.
And perhaps that is why we come down so harshly on the Rasha. In Collins’ words, he is a wrong person and we need to get him off the bus.
In essence, you’re doing this Mitzvah for the team and, not directly profiting, the same way that the Kohen in this week’s parsha may not benefit from the Olah, the burnt offering.
This whole process of focusing on the details…of preparing the sacrifices, preparing for Pesach, or building enduring companies gives us an opportunity to emulate G-d.
Think back to Bereishit.
First, G-d focuses on the details of each day, which he describes as “Tov,” Good. Then, at the end of the week, when all is done and Shabbat is upon Him, he says “tov meod,” essentially Great. This is the first of Hashem's own Good 2 Great transitions and culminates in what many scholars call the 1st shabbat hagadol.
The other Shabbat HaGadol is, of course, today. My personal favorite explanation for why today has that name is that people returned later from shul on that day because of the unusually long discourse that was customary on that day (perhaps even at the Hashkama minyan!). I was going to use that as an excuse to keep going, but the first rule of speaking is “know your audience,” so I’ll wrap it up.
Collins points out that the Good to Great transition is an ongoing process, not a one-time event, and it’s a state of mind which must be frequently revisited. Pesach represents an opportunity to re-evaluate what we as a people need to do in order to continue b’chol dor va dor, in every generation, to make that leap from Good to Great.
Shabbat Shalom.
It's for a uniquely Jewish/business-minded crowd (and of course a few Rabbis).
The students of business among you may be familiar with an author by the name of Jim Collins. Best known perhaps for his book, Built to Last, his most recent best-seller is entitled “Good to Great,” where he describes the characteristics that enable competent companies to make the transition to superior companies.
This week’s Parsha, Tzav, illustrates some of these characteristics. For example, you need
· Level 5 leadership (a selfless persona devoted to the long-term success of the company more than to his own ego),
· to have the “right people on the bus” and the “wrong people off the bus”
· and a culture of disciplined thought and action.
It’s easy to dismiss Parsha Tzav as tedious. Trust me, I know. 18 years ago today, I delivered the obligatory Bar Mitzvah d’var Torah on it. Perhaps that’s why I chose to focus on the lone shalshelet outside of Breishit for my topic.
I mean, what difference does it really make if we put a drop of blood on the right toe of the kohen, what part of the bull can be eaten, what the appropriate amount for a meal offering is, or that if a vessel of clay become impure we must break it, but if it is brass, we must only scour it completely?
These are nice, but are they really relevant? Unfortunately, for those of you craving cholent and scotch right about now, they are.
The operative word in this parsha is Tzav, literally “command.” Rashi suggests that the imperative form of the verb creates a sense of urgency and immediacy. He comments that Tzav implies “zerizut miyad & l'dorot,” meaning do something eagerly, do it immediately AND do it for future generations.
The corporate sponsor for this week should be Nike, “Just do it!”
Even if you don't think it's relevant, you should do it, besides the change now is easier than the change that will be required later. I call this my “Iceberg Theory of Change.”
A few years ago, I saw a documentary about oil rigs in the North Atlantic. The biggest enemy of oil rigs are icebergs. In a confrontation between the two, the iceberg is going to win. So, oil rigs have an elaborate anti-iceberg defense mechanism that involves radars and tugboats. Once they detect an iceberg coming, they send out a tugboat interceptor, which has three options. One is to try and blow the iceberg to smithereens. The other two (literally lassoing the iceberg or throwing the engines in reverse in front of the iceberg to create wake) are designed to alter the course of the iceberg by a miniscule amount. However, at a distance of 300 miles, a deviation of a few degrees or so will make the iceberg miss the rig by 200 miles or something ridiculous like that (the mathematicians out there can give you the exact numbers, but you get the idea.)
So, what’s the point? Well, the sooner you see the need for change and the sooner you make the change, the easier it is going to be. It’s easier to change the course of an iceberg by 1 degree than 30 degrees, which is what you’d need to do as it gets closer to you.
Rashi’s point is that your actions now are going to, in large part, determine your actions in the future. There’s no point in saying “I’ll keep shabbos when I get married” or “ I’ll daven every day when I have kids who are old enough to understand.” If you attach value to it, you should start doing it now.
The details of the process are what sanctify the end result.
Judaism does a great job of infusing the mundane with the sacred by making each step unique and holy and thus making the entire process, not just the end result holy.
In Tzav, we see that you just can’t get up and decide that you will make a sacrifice. In Good to Great, Jim Collins shows us how you just can’t “poof” become a Great company. Similarly, you can’t just show up at a Seder and expect to fulfill the mitzvah of “Higadta Le Vincha.” I would submit that your ability to wholly fulfill this mitzvah is pre-conditioned on the degree of your engagement in the discipline of it all that is required to prepare for the Seder/Chag and in your ability/conscious choice to revel in it.
Why? If you just show up at a seder, it’s a meal like any other meal. Your children are supposed to ask you “Mah Nistahna?” but with no real reason to ask this question, they are just meeting expectations. If, however, they see the joyous effort that goes into the preparation and the opportunity to meaningfully engage in work where others simply bemoan it, there’s a better chance that they will AUTHENTICALLY wonder “hey, what’s going on here? Why am I schlepping all of these dishes? Something is different and I’d like to know what.” Or, as I’d prefer to quote that 80’s classic Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, “strange things are afoot at the Circle K.”
The mitzvah of Vehigadta leVincha requires this genuine discourse and its fulfillment is in line with the trait described by Collins of having a greater commitment to the success of the organization than the self. Perhaps we can take comfort in the fact that despite all of the bad news about Jewish continuity, 92% of American Jews attend at least one seder (that’s more than go to shul on Yom Kippur) and this attendance with its concurrent obligation for everyone to participate either as a speaker or a listener in the Vhigadeta LeVincha mitzvah (it’s almost like a board meeting on a national level) means that most of us are committed to the long-term success of the organization.
And perhaps that is why we come down so harshly on the Rasha. In Collins’ words, he is a wrong person and we need to get him off the bus.
In essence, you’re doing this Mitzvah for the team and, not directly profiting, the same way that the Kohen in this week’s parsha may not benefit from the Olah, the burnt offering.
This whole process of focusing on the details…of preparing the sacrifices, preparing for Pesach, or building enduring companies gives us an opportunity to emulate G-d.
Think back to Bereishit.
First, G-d focuses on the details of each day, which he describes as “Tov,” Good. Then, at the end of the week, when all is done and Shabbat is upon Him, he says “tov meod,” essentially Great. This is the first of Hashem's own Good 2 Great transitions and culminates in what many scholars call the 1st shabbat hagadol.
The other Shabbat HaGadol is, of course, today. My personal favorite explanation for why today has that name is that people returned later from shul on that day because of the unusually long discourse that was customary on that day (perhaps even at the Hashkama minyan!). I was going to use that as an excuse to keep going, but the first rule of speaking is “know your audience,” so I’ll wrap it up.
Collins points out that the Good to Great transition is an ongoing process, not a one-time event, and it’s a state of mind which must be frequently revisited. Pesach represents an opportunity to re-evaluate what we as a people need to do in order to continue b’chol dor va dor, in every generation, to make that leap from Good to Great.
Shabbat Shalom.
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
Thursday, March 18, 2004
It's hard to believe that Tamar has been my wife for three years. Today is our anniversary and though it's clear that the nature of love and life changes dramatically and in many ways so does our relationship, I feel blessed to say that I still am in love with my wife. With Calanit in the picture, it's a different, perhaps more meaningful, mature love. We celebrated in our typical fashion. We each got each other a card (she beat me to the punch by putting her card for me on top of the bag in which I had hidden the ones I got for her-unbeknownst to her) in the morning and then the three of us went out to the Vegetable Garden for dinner. Then, she went dancing and I brought "the Pooka" (as Calanit is now known) home.
Today was also the District meeting at Microsoft and we had an interesting team-building exercise that involved a scavenger hunt. I won't go into details, but the most valuable thing I learned today is one thing I've been continually working on...I need to improve my listening skills and truly seek first to understand and then be understood. I'm not there yet, that's for sure.
All in all, it's been a good week, with some nice accomplishments; some ups, some downs, but one of growth nonetheless.
This shabbat, we're off to Baltimore for a visit with the Moskowitz family.
Today was also the District meeting at Microsoft and we had an interesting team-building exercise that involved a scavenger hunt. I won't go into details, but the most valuable thing I learned today is one thing I've been continually working on...I need to improve my listening skills and truly seek first to understand and then be understood. I'm not there yet, that's for sure.
All in all, it's been a good week, with some nice accomplishments; some ups, some downs, but one of growth nonetheless.
This shabbat, we're off to Baltimore for a visit with the Moskowitz family.
Saturday, March 13, 2004
"The knowledge of our own mortality is the greatest gift God ever gives us.
IT is so easy to waste our lives : our days, our hours, our minutes. It is so easy to take for granted the pale new growth on an evergreen, the sheen of the limestone on Fifth Avenue, the color of our kids' eyes, the way the melody in a symphony rises and falls and disappears and rises again. It is so easy to exist instead of live. Unless you know there is a clock ticking. So many of us changed our lives when we heard a biological clock and dedided to have kids. But that sounds is murmur compared to the tolling of morality." (A Short Guide to a Happy Life, by Anna Quindlen)
I read this quote last night after an emotional session of welcoming the Shabbat (sabbath) while singing, praying, and holding my 3 month-old daughter, Calanit, in my hands. It is absolutely amazing how much perspective you gain on life with a child. Quindlen's quote is right on. Now, when I'm driving or walking or anything, I think much more about how unexpected things could happen and I may never see my family again. I was in NYC on 9/11 and watched the 2nd Tower fall, but the recent bombing in Madrid really impacted me. Here were regular people just going to work, the way that I do everyday, expecting to see their families that evening and then...poof, they're gone. Being so close to the situation in Israel, you'd think I would have felt this sooner, but I don't know, I guess after 3 months, I'm getting used to the idea of being a father and maybe beyond that, getting used to having "the Pooka" (as she is known-for no reason whatsoever) around. The idea that I may never see her pains me. It's not that I'm morbid about it or that I stress about it, it just makes me appreciate every moment more.
There are times, of course, when I lose perspective on things, but I'm definitely learning to stop and smell the roses more. There are other ramifications about this, of course, but we'll save that for another time.
I've had this blog for 2 years, but never really concentrated on doing it with any regularity. Now, however, I'm thinking there's a possibility that this blog could be therapeutic for me. During my travels in Asia/Europe, I wrote a lot--had more time and less responsibility perhaps, and it helped me clarify my thoughts. I am hoping that this blogging will do some of the same. We'll see. Figure 5-10 minutes every couple o' days.
Books I'm currently reading:
Good to Great by Jim Collins
Why Not? by Barry Nalebuff and Ian Ayres
Leading the Revolution by Gary Hamel
Helping Clients Succeed by Mahan Khalsa
Heavy on the business side, but it's seasonal for me. This is just high tide. In the car, I'm listening to:
Managing in a Time of Great Change by Peter Drucker
IT is so easy to waste our lives : our days, our hours, our minutes. It is so easy to take for granted the pale new growth on an evergreen, the sheen of the limestone on Fifth Avenue, the color of our kids' eyes, the way the melody in a symphony rises and falls and disappears and rises again. It is so easy to exist instead of live. Unless you know there is a clock ticking. So many of us changed our lives when we heard a biological clock and dedided to have kids. But that sounds is murmur compared to the tolling of morality." (A Short Guide to a Happy Life, by Anna Quindlen)
I read this quote last night after an emotional session of welcoming the Shabbat (sabbath) while singing, praying, and holding my 3 month-old daughter, Calanit, in my hands. It is absolutely amazing how much perspective you gain on life with a child. Quindlen's quote is right on. Now, when I'm driving or walking or anything, I think much more about how unexpected things could happen and I may never see my family again. I was in NYC on 9/11 and watched the 2nd Tower fall, but the recent bombing in Madrid really impacted me. Here were regular people just going to work, the way that I do everyday, expecting to see their families that evening and then...poof, they're gone. Being so close to the situation in Israel, you'd think I would have felt this sooner, but I don't know, I guess after 3 months, I'm getting used to the idea of being a father and maybe beyond that, getting used to having "the Pooka" (as she is known-for no reason whatsoever) around. The idea that I may never see her pains me. It's not that I'm morbid about it or that I stress about it, it just makes me appreciate every moment more.
There are times, of course, when I lose perspective on things, but I'm definitely learning to stop and smell the roses more. There are other ramifications about this, of course, but we'll save that for another time.
I've had this blog for 2 years, but never really concentrated on doing it with any regularity. Now, however, I'm thinking there's a possibility that this blog could be therapeutic for me. During my travels in Asia/Europe, I wrote a lot--had more time and less responsibility perhaps, and it helped me clarify my thoughts. I am hoping that this blogging will do some of the same. We'll see. Figure 5-10 minutes every couple o' days.
Books I'm currently reading:
Good to Great by Jim Collins
Why Not? by Barry Nalebuff and Ian Ayres
Leading the Revolution by Gary Hamel
Helping Clients Succeed by Mahan Khalsa
Heavy on the business side, but it's seasonal for me. This is just high tide. In the car, I'm listening to:
Managing in a Time of Great Change by Peter Drucker
Friday, December 12, 2003
Birth of Calanit Dora Epstein
Congratulations to Daniel Sharvit-the winner of the Epstein Baby Pool Fundraiser!
With thanks to G-d, we welcome Calanit Dora (pronounced Kah-Lah-Neet). She’s a big eater (like her dad) and all should be returning home Friday morning.
In this email:
1. An explanation of the meaning of the name and the ideas behind it
2. An overview of the day’s events and Jeremy’s reactions to them
3. Key statistics (and how well our winner did)
The Meaning of the Name and the Ideas Behind It
Calanit is a Hebrew word for a species of poppy flower that grows in Israel. It is bright red with black in the middle. Here’s a link for a picture if you can’t see the one in this email http://datafox.mine.nu/israel/kalanit.jpg
Dora is a Hebrew word that literally means “her generation,” and in the name of our daughter serves part of a double entendre.
The festival of Channukah falls during the Jewish month of Kislev (usually late November and December (and the story of the festival centers in part around the outnumbered Maccabees who defeat the superior numbers of Greek/Syrian forces. The Greeks/Syrians were determined in their efforts to compel Jewish assimilation into the larger non-Jewish culture.
A Channukah legend relates that wherever a drop of Maccabee blood spilled during a conflict with the opposition, a bright Calanit bloomed forth in remembrance and glorification of what they represented and of the sacrifices that they made.
We have named Calanit Dora with two people in mind.
One of them is her paternal great-great-grandfather, Charles David (Jeremy’s mother’s mother’s father) with whom she also shares common initials. Charles came to the US when he was about 10 years old. He built a family and a business that beautified the homes of many by selling wallpaper and paint. Through his years of sacrifice, he enabled his offspring to prosper in America. His life was marked by his commitment to family, to Judaism in general, and to the Synagogue Center in Baltimore in particular through his daily attendance at the morning prayer service. Through his devotion and investment in the community, he lived the example of the Maccabees by working to ensure the survival and flourishing of the Jewish community. He was a man of integrity, of character, of honesty, among many other fine qualities and it is our sincere hope that our daughter will seek to emulate the example of her great great grandfather. Calanit represents the first of Charles’s descendants to be born since his death in the late 1970’s/ Jeremy was fortunate to know him for the first 6 years of his life.
Calanit is also named for her maternal great grandmother (Tamar’s mother’s mother), Doris Goldsmith, whose Hebrew name was Raizel (Rose in Yiddish) Dina. Our beloved ‘Savta’ passed away less than a month before her 24th great grandchild’s birth. A woman of immeasurable virtue, she emerged from the Holocaust years having lost her parents and youngest siblings, but summoned the strength and faith to defy those who would attempt to decimate her people by building a family of four daughters, 23 grandchildren, and an ever-expanding number of great grandchildren, all committed to the preservation of Jewish life and tradition. In naming Calanit after this extraordinary woman, we hope to transform our overwhelming feeling of loss and follow Savta’s legacy. Tamar’s sister, Michal, spoke of Savta and lamented the loss by saying, “they just don’t make them like her anymore.” We pray that Calanit Dora will aspire and achieve at least a portion of the virtues of her namesake-that she be cognizant of her place as Dora (in Hebrew-her generation) one of Savta’s dorot (in Hebrew-generations), Savta’s descendants, perhaps the only aspect of Savta’s life regarding which she allowed herself to exhibit pride.
May she be blessed with the merit of her ancestors and may we, as her parents, stay true to the legacies of all those beloved to us, and thereby merit God’s continued blessings.
An Overview of the Day’s Events
I am shocked by how much I have cried in the past 24 hours. I just keep staring and staring at this little girl, this little piece of me, that is in my arms, in Tamar’s arms, in my grandparents’ arms or just sleeping in her little tray thing and I just lose it.
The thoughts are overwhelming. I see a wedding. I see her having children of her own. The fears of all of the evil in the world that could happen to her and from which I want to protect her; The thought of some horny teenage boy who wants to take her out on a date (takes one to know one) and my desire to beat the crap out of him. There are just so many emotions that flow through me right now. I hear Tamar singing to her and I break down. I have never felt tears of joy like these before. It’s intense, well I guess that’s an understatement.
Yesterday morning at 6am when Tamar woke me up to say “my water broke” and I replied “that’s great,” and went back to sleep, seems like another plane of reality. It didn’t dawn on me that it was REALLY happening. In fact, Tamar said “my doctor says I should go to the hospital now,” soon thereafter and I said, “ok, let me do 20 minutes on the Nordic Track first.”
It wasn’t that I was being selfish (well maybe a little bit), but it just didn’t seem real. I knew we had been waiting, but to think that the moment was finally here - well, that seemed a bit too much. Besides, her due date was the 17th, so this 10th thing was probably a false alarm.
When we got to the hospital, things were kind of slow. Contractions were sporadic and the nurse told us that we were at least 10 hours away from a baby. It was 8am. Tamar was so confident that nothing was going to happen that she suggested I get in my car and drive to a planned meeting in Baltimore and get back at noon.
That seemed a bit crazy to me. I mean, having your first child is a once in a lifetime event and if today was going to be the day, well I wanted to be here for all of it, even the slow parts. I did go home for a bit and pick up my laptop and then using my portable Ethernet cable managed to piggyback the Holy Cross Hospital network in order to have email and web access direct from Labor and Delivery room 12. Not bad, eh? I’ve got a pretty understanding wife, that’s for sure.
Tamar had written out a birthing plan and given me responsibility to make sure of a few things.
1. Avoid C-section at all costs
2. Avoid epidural
3. Avoid other narcotics.
By 1 pm, she was still only 1 cm dilated (she needed to be 10) and with a safety window after the water breaking requiring the baby to be born by 4am on Thursday, we had some decisions to make.
The doctors advocated Pitocin, a naturally occurring drug which would enhance the labor process. Tamar initially demurred, but realizing the overall slow progress could raise the risk of C-section, eventually relented.
By 3pm, she was in unbearable pain. I was just watching and I was suffering unimaginably. I couldn’t even guess what she was feeling. However, I had taken an oath to respect her “no epidural wishes.”
Clearly she was hurting, but it’s a classic situation of how do you balance the wishes of someone before vs. during an event (like say an end of care situation)? I was the executor of the birthing plan, if you will. So, I set the bar quite high. Tamar is not known for cursing. Perhaps 1-2 times/year max and then only in highly unusual circumstances. I wish I could be that clean.
“Tamar,” I said, “if I hear you start cursing,” I’m going to give them the OK for the epidural. The code word is “Give me the fucking epidural.”
“I don’t think I can do that,” she said.
“Well, as your fiduciary agent then, I have to respect your stated wishes from your birthing plan.”
The next few contractions intensified and we got a series of “Oh my God! Oh my God!” It was really tremendous
I was crying just watching her in writhing pain. The nurse (Armelle) and the Dr. (Norman) were incredulous. “She’s gone longer than most women even try.” They measured her at 4.30pm. She was only 3 cm dilated. It was getting to crunch time.
At about the same time, the next massive contraction occurred. (There was a monitor that recorded each one so I had the unique ability to make color commentary on each one’s appearance, such as-“whoa, that looked like a big one!” or “come on, this one isn’t nearly as big as the last one. Let’s suck it up!”). Tamar was looking like a boxer after a 15 round fight. She leaned over to the side of the bed, her eyes full of that glazed over, dazed appearance like she hadn’t slept in 48 hours and just sort of whispered…”give me the fucking epidural.”
I turned to the doctor and said, “OK, let’s do it.”
Can you say NIGHT and DAY? 20 minutes after the epidural, it was sunshine time again even on the agenda of possibilities. All along, and during the course of the whole day, the steady 130 some odd beats per minute of the unborn baby were coming through the speakers of the fetal monitor as a kind of constant musical backdrop to our unfolding drama.
At 7.30pm, the doctor returned and checked for dilation. “10 centimeters,” he said, “she’s ready to start pushing.”
I excused my parents from the room and 28 minutes later, we had a baby.
Well, that’s a bit of an oversimplification. Those 28 minutes were transformative.
From the time in the early morning when Tamar said, “it’s time to go to the hospital,” until the doctor said “she’s fully dilated,” I knew intellectually that there was a baby, but somehow, it just didn’t seem real. I mean, I had been having pushing contests in utero with the child, but it just wasn’t there.
The doctor said “oh yeah, you can see the head now.” He opened Tamar open ever so slightly and sure enough, the top of a head was there. I held one of Tamar’s legs up as she pushed like a champ and then a full head popped through. I’ve got a great picture of just the head and for that moment, you know there’s a baby, you just don’t know what gender the baby is.
It’s interesting. All along people asked us if we were going to find out what the gender of the baby would be and we agreed we wouldn’t. We felt like it was akin to reading the last page of the book before you start. I kind of thought of it as the ultimate climax to the pregnancy saga and while I now think that this is indeed true, I am starting to see that it is really the climax to chapter 1 of the saga.
As soon as the baby came out and the doctor (who had a better view than I did) said it was a girl, man, the world just shook on its foundations. I heard the cry. I held her little hand and I immediately started thinking about how I would do anything to keep this person I had just met as safe, sound, and secure as possible. I thought about her wedding, her kids, and worried about what would happen to her with the evil in the world. I started to cry. Bawl, really. I could barely control myself. I was holding the baby, soaking up the moment, taking pictures and videos (I even managed to cut the cord at one point), kiss my wife and have all of these thoughts. It was a tidal wave of stimuli, probably similar to the experience my daughter (whoa, even writing that is surreal) was having after having emerged from the womb.
She is just so cute. She has a stuffy nose and I want to clean it out for her. Yesterday, the thought of changing a diaper was admittedly a bit off-putting to me. Now, all I want to do is keep her comfortable.
I changed her today for the first time and I think I was a just a little bit rough. You know with girls, there are some folds and well, I just wanted to make sure she was clean as could be. She was crying, cold, and she peed on herself. I started crying because I was worried about hurting her. I am crying now just thinking about how I may have hurt her.
On the second change, I noticed that some of the adhesive from the diaper was on her skin-my fault-and I started crying again, begging her forgiveness as I pulled it off. Again, I am crying now just thinking about it.
When she cries from discomfort, I cry. This little 7 pound 19.5 inch piece of me has given me focus and appreciation the likes of which I have never felt before. I now recognize that it is about priorities. As my Uncle Bob said today and, though I’d heard and read this before, for the first time I really appreciate the full meaning of “this is what it is all about.”
I am appreciative, really impressed with the awesome power of God to make this creation process possible. It is said that each of us possesses a part of the Divine and if creating a life is not that spark, then I have no idea what is.
I have tremendous appreciation for our parents and all they have done for us. I am grateful that my mother’s parents were able to see this day and hold their great granddaughter in their arms. I am appreciative of the loving friends and family that we have who have called and visited up until now and for the society in which we live that so values human life and invests so many resources into protecting and nurturing it.
Calanit Dora is now 1 day old and doing well, but it’s not about the milestones, it’s about the inches in between the milestones and every little aspect that make up those inches. In 24 hours, this little girl, my daughter (whoa!) has taught me more about myself than any self-help book or meditation course ever could.
It’s so surreal. I know it has happened and while it has dawned on me at moments, I doubt the full effect of it has. It may never. All I know is that when I get in the car, I am as cautious as when I first got my license. I can’t get killed now. I’ve got two beautiful women counting on me.
I’m absolutely exhausted, but I don’t want to sleep. I want to watch her sleep and watch her breathe. I want to hold her, rock her, sing to her, and explain things to her. I’ve already showed her my laptop and Sunday, we’re going to watch the Redskins-Cowboys game together. I want to read Torah with her and I want to watch her grow and become beautiful, full of good values, self-respect, dignity, and wisdom.
I can’t stop crying now, so I have to stop. The worst part of this email is that I know that no matter how long I write, I can only scratch the surface of the experience.
It’s a ton of responsibility and I know it won’t be easy, but I feel a sense of mission slowly creeping over me. It’s not about me anymore, it’s about her. I also know that I’ll be able to do it. I have to. I have no other choice.
Key Statistics
Date: 12/10/03 (Daniel said same)
Time: 7.58pm (Daniel said 9.46am)
Gender: Girl (Daniel said same)
Weight: 7 lbs (Daniel said 7lbs 8 ozs)
Length: 19 inches (Daniel said 20 inches)
With thanks to G-d, we welcome Calanit Dora (pronounced Kah-Lah-Neet). She’s a big eater (like her dad) and all should be returning home Friday morning.
In this email:
1. An explanation of the meaning of the name and the ideas behind it
2. An overview of the day’s events and Jeremy’s reactions to them
3. Key statistics (and how well our winner did)
The Meaning of the Name and the Ideas Behind It
Calanit is a Hebrew word for a species of poppy flower that grows in Israel. It is bright red with black in the middle. Here’s a link for a picture if you can’t see the one in this email http://datafox.mine.nu/israel/kalanit.jpg
Dora is a Hebrew word that literally means “her generation,” and in the name of our daughter serves part of a double entendre.
The festival of Channukah falls during the Jewish month of Kislev (usually late November and December (and the story of the festival centers in part around the outnumbered Maccabees who defeat the superior numbers of Greek/Syrian forces. The Greeks/Syrians were determined in their efforts to compel Jewish assimilation into the larger non-Jewish culture.
A Channukah legend relates that wherever a drop of Maccabee blood spilled during a conflict with the opposition, a bright Calanit bloomed forth in remembrance and glorification of what they represented and of the sacrifices that they made.
We have named Calanit Dora with two people in mind.
One of them is her paternal great-great-grandfather, Charles David (Jeremy’s mother’s mother’s father) with whom she also shares common initials. Charles came to the US when he was about 10 years old. He built a family and a business that beautified the homes of many by selling wallpaper and paint. Through his years of sacrifice, he enabled his offspring to prosper in America. His life was marked by his commitment to family, to Judaism in general, and to the Synagogue Center in Baltimore in particular through his daily attendance at the morning prayer service. Through his devotion and investment in the community, he lived the example of the Maccabees by working to ensure the survival and flourishing of the Jewish community. He was a man of integrity, of character, of honesty, among many other fine qualities and it is our sincere hope that our daughter will seek to emulate the example of her great great grandfather. Calanit represents the first of Charles’s descendants to be born since his death in the late 1970’s/ Jeremy was fortunate to know him for the first 6 years of his life.
Calanit is also named for her maternal great grandmother (Tamar’s mother’s mother), Doris Goldsmith, whose Hebrew name was Raizel (Rose in Yiddish) Dina. Our beloved ‘Savta’ passed away less than a month before her 24th great grandchild’s birth. A woman of immeasurable virtue, she emerged from the Holocaust years having lost her parents and youngest siblings, but summoned the strength and faith to defy those who would attempt to decimate her people by building a family of four daughters, 23 grandchildren, and an ever-expanding number of great grandchildren, all committed to the preservation of Jewish life and tradition. In naming Calanit after this extraordinary woman, we hope to transform our overwhelming feeling of loss and follow Savta’s legacy. Tamar’s sister, Michal, spoke of Savta and lamented the loss by saying, “they just don’t make them like her anymore.” We pray that Calanit Dora will aspire and achieve at least a portion of the virtues of her namesake-that she be cognizant of her place as Dora (in Hebrew-her generation) one of Savta’s dorot (in Hebrew-generations), Savta’s descendants, perhaps the only aspect of Savta’s life regarding which she allowed herself to exhibit pride.
May she be blessed with the merit of her ancestors and may we, as her parents, stay true to the legacies of all those beloved to us, and thereby merit God’s continued blessings.
An Overview of the Day’s Events
I am shocked by how much I have cried in the past 24 hours. I just keep staring and staring at this little girl, this little piece of me, that is in my arms, in Tamar’s arms, in my grandparents’ arms or just sleeping in her little tray thing and I just lose it.
The thoughts are overwhelming. I see a wedding. I see her having children of her own. The fears of all of the evil in the world that could happen to her and from which I want to protect her; The thought of some horny teenage boy who wants to take her out on a date (takes one to know one) and my desire to beat the crap out of him. There are just so many emotions that flow through me right now. I hear Tamar singing to her and I break down. I have never felt tears of joy like these before. It’s intense, well I guess that’s an understatement.
Yesterday morning at 6am when Tamar woke me up to say “my water broke” and I replied “that’s great,” and went back to sleep, seems like another plane of reality. It didn’t dawn on me that it was REALLY happening. In fact, Tamar said “my doctor says I should go to the hospital now,” soon thereafter and I said, “ok, let me do 20 minutes on the Nordic Track first.”
It wasn’t that I was being selfish (well maybe a little bit), but it just didn’t seem real. I knew we had been waiting, but to think that the moment was finally here - well, that seemed a bit too much. Besides, her due date was the 17th, so this 10th thing was probably a false alarm.
When we got to the hospital, things were kind of slow. Contractions were sporadic and the nurse told us that we were at least 10 hours away from a baby. It was 8am. Tamar was so confident that nothing was going to happen that she suggested I get in my car and drive to a planned meeting in Baltimore and get back at noon.
That seemed a bit crazy to me. I mean, having your first child is a once in a lifetime event and if today was going to be the day, well I wanted to be here for all of it, even the slow parts. I did go home for a bit and pick up my laptop and then using my portable Ethernet cable managed to piggyback the Holy Cross Hospital network in order to have email and web access direct from Labor and Delivery room 12. Not bad, eh? I’ve got a pretty understanding wife, that’s for sure.
Tamar had written out a birthing plan and given me responsibility to make sure of a few things.
1. Avoid C-section at all costs
2. Avoid epidural
3. Avoid other narcotics.
By 1 pm, she was still only 1 cm dilated (she needed to be 10) and with a safety window after the water breaking requiring the baby to be born by 4am on Thursday, we had some decisions to make.
The doctors advocated Pitocin, a naturally occurring drug which would enhance the labor process. Tamar initially demurred, but realizing the overall slow progress could raise the risk of C-section, eventually relented.
By 3pm, she was in unbearable pain. I was just watching and I was suffering unimaginably. I couldn’t even guess what she was feeling. However, I had taken an oath to respect her “no epidural wishes.”
Clearly she was hurting, but it’s a classic situation of how do you balance the wishes of someone before vs. during an event (like say an end of care situation)? I was the executor of the birthing plan, if you will. So, I set the bar quite high. Tamar is not known for cursing. Perhaps 1-2 times/year max and then only in highly unusual circumstances. I wish I could be that clean.
“Tamar,” I said, “if I hear you start cursing,” I’m going to give them the OK for the epidural. The code word is “Give me the fucking epidural.”
“I don’t think I can do that,” she said.
“Well, as your fiduciary agent then, I have to respect your stated wishes from your birthing plan.”
The next few contractions intensified and we got a series of “Oh my God! Oh my God!” It was really tremendous
I was crying just watching her in writhing pain. The nurse (Armelle) and the Dr. (Norman) were incredulous. “She’s gone longer than most women even try.” They measured her at 4.30pm. She was only 3 cm dilated. It was getting to crunch time.
At about the same time, the next massive contraction occurred. (There was a monitor that recorded each one so I had the unique ability to make color commentary on each one’s appearance, such as-“whoa, that looked like a big one!” or “come on, this one isn’t nearly as big as the last one. Let’s suck it up!”). Tamar was looking like a boxer after a 15 round fight. She leaned over to the side of the bed, her eyes full of that glazed over, dazed appearance like she hadn’t slept in 48 hours and just sort of whispered…”give me the fucking epidural.”
I turned to the doctor and said, “OK, let’s do it.”
Can you say NIGHT and DAY? 20 minutes after the epidural, it was sunshine time again even on the agenda of possibilities. All along, and during the course of the whole day, the steady 130 some odd beats per minute of the unborn baby were coming through the speakers of the fetal monitor as a kind of constant musical backdrop to our unfolding drama.
At 7.30pm, the doctor returned and checked for dilation. “10 centimeters,” he said, “she’s ready to start pushing.”
I excused my parents from the room and 28 minutes later, we had a baby.
Well, that’s a bit of an oversimplification. Those 28 minutes were transformative.
From the time in the early morning when Tamar said, “it’s time to go to the hospital,” until the doctor said “she’s fully dilated,” I knew intellectually that there was a baby, but somehow, it just didn’t seem real. I mean, I had been having pushing contests in utero with the child, but it just wasn’t there.
The doctor said “oh yeah, you can see the head now.” He opened Tamar open ever so slightly and sure enough, the top of a head was there. I held one of Tamar’s legs up as she pushed like a champ and then a full head popped through. I’ve got a great picture of just the head and for that moment, you know there’s a baby, you just don’t know what gender the baby is.
It’s interesting. All along people asked us if we were going to find out what the gender of the baby would be and we agreed we wouldn’t. We felt like it was akin to reading the last page of the book before you start. I kind of thought of it as the ultimate climax to the pregnancy saga and while I now think that this is indeed true, I am starting to see that it is really the climax to chapter 1 of the saga.
As soon as the baby came out and the doctor (who had a better view than I did) said it was a girl, man, the world just shook on its foundations. I heard the cry. I held her little hand and I immediately started thinking about how I would do anything to keep this person I had just met as safe, sound, and secure as possible. I thought about her wedding, her kids, and worried about what would happen to her with the evil in the world. I started to cry. Bawl, really. I could barely control myself. I was holding the baby, soaking up the moment, taking pictures and videos (I even managed to cut the cord at one point), kiss my wife and have all of these thoughts. It was a tidal wave of stimuli, probably similar to the experience my daughter (whoa, even writing that is surreal) was having after having emerged from the womb.
She is just so cute. She has a stuffy nose and I want to clean it out for her. Yesterday, the thought of changing a diaper was admittedly a bit off-putting to me. Now, all I want to do is keep her comfortable.
I changed her today for the first time and I think I was a just a little bit rough. You know with girls, there are some folds and well, I just wanted to make sure she was clean as could be. She was crying, cold, and she peed on herself. I started crying because I was worried about hurting her. I am crying now just thinking about how I may have hurt her.
On the second change, I noticed that some of the adhesive from the diaper was on her skin-my fault-and I started crying again, begging her forgiveness as I pulled it off. Again, I am crying now just thinking about it.
When she cries from discomfort, I cry. This little 7 pound 19.5 inch piece of me has given me focus and appreciation the likes of which I have never felt before. I now recognize that it is about priorities. As my Uncle Bob said today and, though I’d heard and read this before, for the first time I really appreciate the full meaning of “this is what it is all about.”
I am appreciative, really impressed with the awesome power of God to make this creation process possible. It is said that each of us possesses a part of the Divine and if creating a life is not that spark, then I have no idea what is.
I have tremendous appreciation for our parents and all they have done for us. I am grateful that my mother’s parents were able to see this day and hold their great granddaughter in their arms. I am appreciative of the loving friends and family that we have who have called and visited up until now and for the society in which we live that so values human life and invests so many resources into protecting and nurturing it.
Calanit Dora is now 1 day old and doing well, but it’s not about the milestones, it’s about the inches in between the milestones and every little aspect that make up those inches. In 24 hours, this little girl, my daughter (whoa!) has taught me more about myself than any self-help book or meditation course ever could.
It’s so surreal. I know it has happened and while it has dawned on me at moments, I doubt the full effect of it has. It may never. All I know is that when I get in the car, I am as cautious as when I first got my license. I can’t get killed now. I’ve got two beautiful women counting on me.
I’m absolutely exhausted, but I don’t want to sleep. I want to watch her sleep and watch her breathe. I want to hold her, rock her, sing to her, and explain things to her. I’ve already showed her my laptop and Sunday, we’re going to watch the Redskins-Cowboys game together. I want to read Torah with her and I want to watch her grow and become beautiful, full of good values, self-respect, dignity, and wisdom.
I can’t stop crying now, so I have to stop. The worst part of this email is that I know that no matter how long I write, I can only scratch the surface of the experience.
It’s a ton of responsibility and I know it won’t be easy, but I feel a sense of mission slowly creeping over me. It’s not about me anymore, it’s about her. I also know that I’ll be able to do it. I have to. I have no other choice.
Key Statistics
Date: 12/10/03 (Daniel said same)
Time: 7.58pm (Daniel said 9.46am)
Gender: Girl (Daniel said same)
Weight: 7 lbs (Daniel said 7lbs 8 ozs)
Length: 19 inches (Daniel said 20 inches)
Sunday, November 23, 2003
So, I have a question of etiquette for you.
You’re in a parking lot, riding as a passenger with a friend. It’s crowded, spots are not easy to come by. As the passenger, can you get out of the car and walk around the lot? And if you do see an open spot (that hasn’t been claimed by another person), can you go and “save it” until your car arrives there? Are you allowed to wave off other drivers?
I’ll share what happened to us a few weeks ago after I hear back.
A few items of relevance:
1. Please note my new email address: jer979@dadash.net
2. One week to the deadline for the baby pool. See entries to-date below.
Enter now at: www.mbafinder.nu/baby
3. I’ve also posted this email at: http://jer979.blogspot.com
As for the life changing event on the horizon, it’s like I have the distinct feeling that someone is moving into my apartment, it’s just that I don’t know who it is. Or, that we have a long-lost friend who has been on a trip and will be returning any day now. It’s kind of surreal. We’ve got the accoutrements; clothes, diapers, car seat, stroller, bassinet, Pack ‘n’ Play.
Tamar tells me that baby has ‘moved into position” and last night I could definitely feel a limb for the first time. I think it was a foot, but I’m not sure.
We took a tour of the hospital and while the other husbands were asking questions like, “how much do private rooms cost?” and “are phone calls free?” I was rebuked by Tamar for asking “is there wireless internet access available in the cafeteria?” (apparently that is the only place in the hospital where laptop use is permissible) and “what’s the name of the company that makes the Baby Lo-jack system?” (It is a tag on the baby that sounds an alarm and shuts the doors of the hospital if the wrong person tries to remove the baby from the premises). I thought it sounded like a good investment opportunity.
Nevertheless, I am excited, nervous and relaxed-all at the same time. Everyone says “your life will change in ways that you can’t imagine.” I accept that and since there’s nothing I can do about it, I figure, why sweat it? The advice I’ve received from others has been stellar and I think I’m about as ready as I can be for now.
We’re getting close to Showtime. I’ll keep you posted.
Best,
Jeremy
Mo.
D Yr Sex Hr Min. A/P Lbs Oz In. First Last
1 1 2003 Female 1 0 PM 7 6 23 Rafi Rone
1 1 2004 Male 2 0 AM 6 10 19 Chuck Fox
1 3 2004 Male 6 7 AM 6 6 17 Joyce Stern
10 8 2003 Male 5 50 AM 9 4 1 Inbar Gazit
12 1 2003 Female 9 5 PM 6 7 19 Sarah & Hannah Mandelbaum
12 7 2003 Female 7 56 PM 7 2 21 Loren Edelson
12 12 2003 Male 5 0 AM 8 0 20 stanley robinson
12 13 2003 Female 6 26 PM 8 0 12 Albert Vernon
12 13 2003 Male 6 13 AM 9 1 23 Benjamin Epstein
12 14 2003 Female 4 0 AM 5 6 10 David Borowich
12 14 2003 Male 6 0 AM 7 3 21 Jon & Robin Reuter
12 15 2003 Female 3 23 PM 7 2 19 Nava Silton
12 15 2003 Male 12 15 AM 7 2 12 shira silton
12 17 2003 Female 12 1 PM 7 4 20 Howard Teitelman
12 18 2003 Female 6 0 PM 5 12 18 Lili Zemon
12 18 2003 Male 7 18 PM 8 10 21 Leonard Epstein
12 18 2003 Male 11 11 AM 6 7 25 Steve Fisch
12 18 2003 Male 11 20 PM 8 7 22 Shai Shen-Orr
12 19 2003 Female 5 12 AM 8 2 20 Petras Petroskevicius
12 19 2003 Male 6 28 AM 6 2 11 Dov Robinson
12 19 2003 Male 9 0 PM 6 7 19 Michael Merwitz
12 20 2003 Male 3 0 AM 8 2 22 Yah-el Har-el
12 20 2003 Female 4 0 PM 7 3 20 stacey mintz
12 20 2003 Female 9 1 AM 7 14 20 Kevin Epstein
12 21 2003 Male 4 0 PM 6 13 22 Illana Moskowitz
12 21 2003 Male 5 37 PM 6 7 17 Kira Epstein
12 21 2003 Female 6 26 AM 6 7 19 Lee Smith
12 21 2003 Female 6 25 PM 7 7 21 Barry Epstein
12 22 2003 Female 2 45 AM 6 8 19 Bethel Weiss
12 22 2003 Female 3 5 PM 8 2 22 Julie Epstein
12 22 2003 Male 5 0 PM 8 0 21 Michele Thompson
12 23 2003 Male 2 0 PM 7 3 21 Jon & Robin Reuter
12 23 2003 Female 2 17 AM 7 14 20 Matt Pangaro
12 23 2003 Male 9 0 PM 8 10 22 david lesser
12 23 2003 Male 11 30 AM 7 6 20 Lynn Rosenfeld
12 24 2003 Female 1 15 AM 7 10 21 Barak Epstein
12 24 2003 Female 6 15 PM 7 2 19 Ellen Epstein
12 25 2003 Female 3 0 AM 6 12 20 Asher Epstein
12 25 2003 Female 5 38 AM 7 12 20 mark walsh
12 25 2003 Male 5 27 AM 7 6 21 Rebecca Kittrell
12 25 2003 Male 12 0 AM 8 0 18 Helene Reisler
12 26 2003 Female 12 0 AM 6 8 20 Joe Richter
12 28 2003 Male 5 0 AM 7 13 20 Lauren Battista
You’re in a parking lot, riding as a passenger with a friend. It’s crowded, spots are not easy to come by. As the passenger, can you get out of the car and walk around the lot? And if you do see an open spot (that hasn’t been claimed by another person), can you go and “save it” until your car arrives there? Are you allowed to wave off other drivers?
I’ll share what happened to us a few weeks ago after I hear back.
A few items of relevance:
1. Please note my new email address: jer979@dadash.net
2. One week to the deadline for the baby pool. See entries to-date below.
Enter now at: www.mbafinder.nu/baby
3. I’ve also posted this email at: http://jer979.blogspot.com
As for the life changing event on the horizon, it’s like I have the distinct feeling that someone is moving into my apartment, it’s just that I don’t know who it is. Or, that we have a long-lost friend who has been on a trip and will be returning any day now. It’s kind of surreal. We’ve got the accoutrements; clothes, diapers, car seat, stroller, bassinet, Pack ‘n’ Play.
Tamar tells me that baby has ‘moved into position” and last night I could definitely feel a limb for the first time. I think it was a foot, but I’m not sure.
We took a tour of the hospital and while the other husbands were asking questions like, “how much do private rooms cost?” and “are phone calls free?” I was rebuked by Tamar for asking “is there wireless internet access available in the cafeteria?” (apparently that is the only place in the hospital where laptop use is permissible) and “what’s the name of the company that makes the Baby Lo-jack system?” (It is a tag on the baby that sounds an alarm and shuts the doors of the hospital if the wrong person tries to remove the baby from the premises). I thought it sounded like a good investment opportunity.
Nevertheless, I am excited, nervous and relaxed-all at the same time. Everyone says “your life will change in ways that you can’t imagine.” I accept that and since there’s nothing I can do about it, I figure, why sweat it? The advice I’ve received from others has been stellar and I think I’m about as ready as I can be for now.
We’re getting close to Showtime. I’ll keep you posted.
Best,
Jeremy
Mo.
D Yr Sex Hr Min. A/P Lbs Oz In. First Last
1 1 2003 Female 1 0 PM 7 6 23 Rafi Rone
1 1 2004 Male 2 0 AM 6 10 19 Chuck Fox
1 3 2004 Male 6 7 AM 6 6 17 Joyce Stern
10 8 2003 Male 5 50 AM 9 4 1 Inbar Gazit
12 1 2003 Female 9 5 PM 6 7 19 Sarah & Hannah Mandelbaum
12 7 2003 Female 7 56 PM 7 2 21 Loren Edelson
12 12 2003 Male 5 0 AM 8 0 20 stanley robinson
12 13 2003 Female 6 26 PM 8 0 12 Albert Vernon
12 13 2003 Male 6 13 AM 9 1 23 Benjamin Epstein
12 14 2003 Female 4 0 AM 5 6 10 David Borowich
12 14 2003 Male 6 0 AM 7 3 21 Jon & Robin Reuter
12 15 2003 Female 3 23 PM 7 2 19 Nava Silton
12 15 2003 Male 12 15 AM 7 2 12 shira silton
12 17 2003 Female 12 1 PM 7 4 20 Howard Teitelman
12 18 2003 Female 6 0 PM 5 12 18 Lili Zemon
12 18 2003 Male 7 18 PM 8 10 21 Leonard Epstein
12 18 2003 Male 11 11 AM 6 7 25 Steve Fisch
12 18 2003 Male 11 20 PM 8 7 22 Shai Shen-Orr
12 19 2003 Female 5 12 AM 8 2 20 Petras Petroskevicius
12 19 2003 Male 6 28 AM 6 2 11 Dov Robinson
12 19 2003 Male 9 0 PM 6 7 19 Michael Merwitz
12 20 2003 Male 3 0 AM 8 2 22 Yah-el Har-el
12 20 2003 Female 4 0 PM 7 3 20 stacey mintz
12 20 2003 Female 9 1 AM 7 14 20 Kevin Epstein
12 21 2003 Male 4 0 PM 6 13 22 Illana Moskowitz
12 21 2003 Male 5 37 PM 6 7 17 Kira Epstein
12 21 2003 Female 6 26 AM 6 7 19 Lee Smith
12 21 2003 Female 6 25 PM 7 7 21 Barry Epstein
12 22 2003 Female 2 45 AM 6 8 19 Bethel Weiss
12 22 2003 Female 3 5 PM 8 2 22 Julie Epstein
12 22 2003 Male 5 0 PM 8 0 21 Michele Thompson
12 23 2003 Male 2 0 PM 7 3 21 Jon & Robin Reuter
12 23 2003 Female 2 17 AM 7 14 20 Matt Pangaro
12 23 2003 Male 9 0 PM 8 10 22 david lesser
12 23 2003 Male 11 30 AM 7 6 20 Lynn Rosenfeld
12 24 2003 Female 1 15 AM 7 10 21 Barak Epstein
12 24 2003 Female 6 15 PM 7 2 19 Ellen Epstein
12 25 2003 Female 3 0 AM 6 12 20 Asher Epstein
12 25 2003 Female 5 38 AM 7 12 20 mark walsh
12 25 2003 Male 5 27 AM 7 6 21 Rebecca Kittrell
12 25 2003 Male 12 0 AM 8 0 18 Helene Reisler
12 26 2003 Female 12 0 AM 6 8 20 Joe Richter
12 28 2003 Male 5 0 AM 7 13 20 Lauren Battista
Monday, October 20, 2003
Sunday, August 24, 2003
Don't Cry for me...I'm back from Argentina
It’s no wonder that they call Buenos Aires the “Paris of the South.” It’s clear that at some point, someone decided that they would go to Europe, copy the ideas of avenues, cafes, parks, the way buildings look and just import it wholesale to South America.
What this has done has created a unique oasis of beauty within an otherwise fairly typical South American experience (having only been to Peru, but extrapolating from what I’ve seen there and heard about others.) That may not be 100% accurate as Argentina has historically lived at a higher standard than its neighbors, but there is a divide between B.A. and its inhabitants (known as ‘Portenos’) and the 2/3rds of Argentineans who don’t live there. Buenos Aires, however, is the center of EVERYTHING. Business, politics, culture…you name it. It is the center of gravity for the entire country and arguably for the entire southern region of the continent.
What you have then are wide avenues, shopping districts, museums, and government buildings that belong in the great capitals of the world.
The citizens of the polis possess a wonderful sense of fashion and dress quite well. There is a sense of flair and style, as exemplified by the national dance of Argentina, the Tango (which we unfortunately did not get to see in person).
The center of Buenos Aires is the Plaza de Mayo. Buenos Aires smeans ‘good air’ for the fact that the patron saint of the city (can’t remember right now) is the patron saint of sailors and because of the strong winds that helped sailors come up the Rio de la Plata. The River is 42 miles wide and separates Argentina from Uruguay (a former province of Argentina) and originally was thought to be the sought-after passage to the Pacific because it looks like an ocean.
The Plaza de Mayo is marked by a large, pink building at one end, which serves as the office of the President. It’s a unique hue and according to our guide, in 1810 when the country received its independence from Spain, led by one San Martin. At that time, the country wasn’t so wealthy and they didn’t have any paint, so they used cow’s blood as the basis for the paint…hence the pink hue.
But, as the saying goes, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover.’ During our trip (this was everyone in my immediate family-8 in total, except for my lovely, 6 months pregnant wife), we read a number of books and articles about our host country, most notably an essay by Nobel laureate, V.S. Naipaul entitled “The Return of Eva Peron” (yes, we did visit her grave at the Recoleta cemetery) which essentially puts forth the notion that Argentina is a country that is perpetually ‘on the cusp.’
Blessed with rich, fertile soil, natural resources, a well educated population (almost 100% ofo which are descendants of European immigrants—the Indians were exterminated), and a huge amount of land (from top to bottom the country extends 3000 miles), Argentina has just not been able to get its act together. Every few years, it seems that the country is thrown into upheaval. Corruption continues to be theh single biggest barrier to effective, true, and sustained growth and its existence has come to be accepted with a shrug of resignation. That, plus as our travel agent, Fernando, in Salta said: ‘most people here are just lazy.” Admittedly, we didn’t see that, but the siesta (not so much in B.A., but in other places), does create for a strange work life.
So, what you have behind the beautiful facades of the European city is a country that followed a ‘keeping up with the Joneses’ mentality, lived on credit for too long, and now is finally having to pay the piper.
The recent economic turbulence in 2001, where the Peso was devalued (it had been equal to the dollar in value) has had serious impact on the population, especially for the bulk of people whose savings were in dollars. For the tourist, it’s a blessing. At an exchange rate of almost 3 to 1, your purchasing power is tremendous.
A few examples. The 8 of us went out for a steak dinner (there are a large number of Kosher restaurants in B.A., with 300k Jews) that easily would have been $400 or more in NYC, cost us only $80, with tip and wine. Plus, the Argentinian reputation for fine beef held its own.
Our hotels, nothing fancy, but nothing grimy, were about $30 per room. We had an English-speaking guide for a full day for $30. One other sign of the relative poverty was the large propensity of Locutoro’s, or telephone calling centers. It gave me the impression that many people no longer could afford phone service at their homes. The benefit for me was that I was always in a position to call Tamar, for about 5 cents a minute, roughly.
You get the picture. In fact, I compared notes with a friend who had taken her family of 6 to Disneyworld for 10 days and, including airfare, it was more cost-effective for 8 of us to go to Argentina for the same amount of time (in fact, some stayed as long as 14 days). The good thing for the Argentines is that, as an economy, they are benefiting from tourists, seeing their importance, and in the words of one guide, ‘at least things have stopped getting worse, even if they aren’t getting better.”
The primary impetus for our trip was the fact that two of my sisters-in-law, known as the dynamic duo (they’re twins) had gone on a young adult’s solidarity mission to aid the poverty-stricken members of Argentina’s Jewish community. We spent our first Sabbath in Buenos Aires with them before heading to the northwestern part of the country.
Argentina, unlike the US, was settled from west to east. The Spaniards, in search of gold, had all but ignored Argentina (which if you know your periodic table of elements is named for silver—which there was quite limited, if at all), gone around the tip of the continent to Peru in search of the elusive El Dorado. As their wars against the Incas progressed and they expanded their efforts, they moved into the heart of Argentina back across the Andes.
Our first stop was Salta, where the first thing you notice is the architecture is more Spanish colonial than the Parisian of B.A. The second thing you notice is that the Caucasian faces have been replaced by more Indian and mestizo. Lastly, you start hearing of the rivalry between Portenos (generalized as snobby and aristocratic) and the rest of the population.
A number of Argentines told us that this part of the country is the ‘authentic’ one. This is the land of estancias (ranches), gauchos (cowboys), although not a huge number, and beautiful mountains full of color (Pumamarca is known for its 7 color hills with deep purples, reds, and browns). It is also the land of legends, such as the Omahuaca (crying heads) Indians, who were lulled into a false peace by a woman who was ostensibly sent as an emissary from another tribe. After a good night of drinking and partying, the crying heads became the dead heads (not the rock band kind), as the other tribes’ warriors descended upon them and slew them in their sleep.
The small towns are characterized by a small square with some stores (selling the same type of merchandise) and handicrafts made by Indians at extremely low prices. Also, the open air markets for produce in less than fully hygienic stalls.
One thing I did notice is that despite the relative poverty and economic hardship, this was not a country of aggressive solicitation, nor was it a country where we felt consistently like we were being taken advantage of. Undoubtedly, there were times we got the special ‘tourist price,” but frankly, this was probably more from our travel agents than anyone else (though they did do a fantastic job in helping us with the logistics of moving eight people around).
Argentina is not really a country full of destinations, at least in the traditional tourist sense. Walking Buenos Aires is fun, of course, and Iguazu Falls in the northeast along the border with Brazil, which we visited after a 2-day, 20 hour cross country drive in a big Mercedes van, is without a doubt one of nature’s beautiful creations (more on that later), but for the most part, this is a country you visit to clear your mind and get into some wide open spaces. The one time in trip where we really felt like we were in the depths of South America was at Iguazu. It was a rainforest environment (the Argentines did a wonderful job with the national park there) and you really got the sense of isolation. Plus, we had the opportunity to see some crocodiles and exotic butterflies among other wildlife.
There is a unique Argentine history to study, full of colorful personalities like Eva Peron and horrific events, like the Dirty War of the late 1970’s, but the question of what defines Argentine culture and national identity is one that eluded us and many of the Argentines we asked. We were aided in these conversations by our two Spanish speakers (my brother, Barak, and father.)
In fact, driving across the country from northwest to northeast, you are struck by a few things. One, the amount of wide open spaces with no people. Second, the generally good infrastructure (except for one road of about 200 miles which has been ignored according to our driver by the provincial government for reasons that are unclear, but probably involve graft, politics or both). Third, the police checkpoints.
There are a lot of resources in the country devoted to internally monitoring the flow of people. While we had no problems at all and saw no corruption take place, it was interesting to wonder for what they were looking. Drugs from Bolivia is one answer, but frankly we’re not sure. It’s just a drain on the flow of commerce. Imagine if every 100 miles or so, you had to tell a policeman where you were going and where you were coming from.
As with any trip that is composed of 8 people who are related, there are bound to be moments of tension, but as far as Epstein family trips have gone in the past, this one was one of the more sedate. By now, we’re a relatively smooth operating machine—thanks in large part to the 5 Motorola Talk-Abouts which my dad brought and which enhanced efficiency tremendously. The family bonding, the shared memories, the laughter, and the good natured kidding that comes from this type of prolonged exposure to each other is what makes the trip a central element of our family’s identity.
Argentina 2003 was no different.
Thanks for reading.
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