Yum Kippur

Quick, how many Jews does it take to blog about Yom Kippur? All of 'em.

Not that the internet needed another blogpost about it, what with this fine post at Round Seventeen, and this swell one at Ad-Aged. But I thought what the hell, I'm just sitting here: I may as well write one. After all, we're not supposed to eat today, but apparently typing is still on the table (see what I did there?).

As I've posted before, I'm not really much of a practicing Jew. I don't know if it's because of four long years of Hebrew school and being bar mitzvah'd, or in spite of it. But as a result, whether I want to be or not, I'm still hard-wired to recognize the holiest day on the Jewish calendar. And because Catholics, despite what they think, have never had the market on guilt cornered, I can't help feeling like I should be more of a participant in the customs and traditions of this day. But here's the thing: for me, actually observing it would be a bit hypocritical. Somewhat akin to all the Jews who, since they're not supposed to drive today, make a proud point of walking all the way to the synagogue.

From the parking lot.

Yom Kippur is the one day we're supposed to reflect on and atone for our sins of the past year. I'm not bragging, but I think we both know it's going to take more than one day.

Besides, there isn't a day that goes by that I'm not constantly thinking about my sins. Since we're supposed to be fasting on this holy day, each year Yom Kippur only serves to narrow down the sin I should be focusing on most.

Gluttony.

Til death do you part? Good luck with that

I’m not sure, but I think 2000 is the crown-of-diamonds anniversary.

Last week, a piece of papyrus was discovered. On it, Jesus is quoted as saying the words “My wife…” But then, the paper cuts off.

Cue the media frenzy.

“Was Jesus married?” the pundits were asking. Or even worse, stating as fact.

The answer of course is no, he wasn’t. So I hope you kept the receipt for that crock pot.

The fabric it’s written on, much less the statement itself, strike more than a few theological investigators as suspicious since this “discovery” just came to light. The truth is, as Jon Stewart showed last week, Jesus could’ve been saying virtually anything:

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
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But I think to discover the real reason Jesus wasn't married, you have to turn to a preacher. Or former one. That's why I think Sam Kinison has the real reason - by the way, this clip is NOT suitable for younger viewers (surprise!):

And if it turns out he was married, all I can say is I hope she gets along with the in-laws.

Buckle up

I used to be terrified of my son getting his driver's permit. Then after giving it some thought, I couldn't wait. It would mean the time when I could hang up my chauffeur's hat would just be that much closer.

Well, he has his permit now. And turnabout fair play, he's become my chauffeur.

First off, let me say he's a very conscientious driver. He takes it seriously, and he's earned my trust behind the wheel.

Of course, having the parents that he does, unfortunately he has a hereditary condition called "lead foot." We'd hoped it would skip a generation as these conditions sometimes do, but no such luck.

Anyway, whenever anything has to get done that requires driving, he drives me there. The market. The dry cleaners. The Lexus dealer. To and from school. Every minute behind the wheel is a learning opportunity for both of us.

Since all the rules of the road are fresh and top of mind to him, it serves two purposes: to make him a better driver, and to make me one as well. I've acquired some sloppy habits over the years (rolling stops, not signaling as often as I should, that "lead foot" thing) that I'm now much more aware of thanks to him. And it's not that he's pointing out my mistakes - it's just me noticing how good he's doing and seeing where I can improve.

In a couple years, when my daughter gets her permit, I have no doubt she'll be a great driver as well.

At the end of the day, all you can do is put them in a safe car, know they're paying attention, and hope they don't have a target on their back.

And making sure they're an excellent driver doesn't hurt either.

Grounded

You know what's more awesome than seeing the space shuttle fly overhead? Nothing.

Like thousands of other people in Southern California, I was on the rooftop of where I'm working to see the final ride and farewell tour of the space shuttle Endeavour. Since my current office isn't far from LAX, I was lucky enough to have a pretty good view of it (although not as good as my wife's, which is the picture you see here).

For as exciting as it was, for me there was an equal amount of sadness. I keep hearing the phrase, "Once in a lifetime." to describe seeing it. And while it's true, I can't help thinking that it shouldn't be that way.

I think about how much inspiration and how many dreams will be lost, because children won't have the excitement of a launch to wake up to.

Growing up, and even into adulthood, I am still in awe of the power and majesty of the shuttle engines as they fire up:

I'll be the first to agree government doesn't get a lot of things right. But one thing they happen to excel at is, or was, the space program. If you don't believe me, just ask any of the other countries who've landed on the moon. Oh, wait a minute.

I know it's an economy that demands tough choices. But sometimes the benefits of money spent aren't entirely tangible. How do you put a pricetag on inspiring children to be engineers, astronauts, pilots and pioneers?

For everything we've gained from the shuttle program, and as grateful as I am to have seen it, today all I can think about is what we're losing.

Rosh hour

Representation of 405 this morning

Today is the day when Jews all over Los Angeles observe the high holy day of Rosh Hashanah. In my experience, I’ve found the best place to observe it is from the freeway.

Whenever the Jewish high holidays roll around, traffic in L.A. is virtually non-existent, especially if you’re headed to the west side or any of the studios (go ahead, tell me I’m wrong).

Being the non-practicing Jew I am, and despite four long, long years of Hebrew school, I don’t really remember much about Rosh Hashanah. It’s either the celebration of the Jewish New Year 5773, or a rejoicing of the fact there’s no traffic on the usually gridlocked 405 for two days in a row.

I’m going with the second one. And I’m going with it at 75 mph.

One tradition of this high holiday is the blowing of the Shofar (this is a family blog - insert your own joke here). I prefer to participate in the alternate tradition of blowing past all the places I’d normally be stuck on the way in.

Not only are the roads empty, so is the office. Truthfully, since work is not allowed on Rosh Hashanah, I probably should’ve stayed home and gone to temple. I haven’t done that since I was 13. But you never know. It could happen.

Meanwhile, I’m sure the ride home will be equally as quick and uncongested. It’s just the kind of drive that makes me wish everyday were a Jewish holiday. But then movies would never get made, and what would I do on Saturdays?

So happy New Year to all my friends of every faith.

And just so you know, next up on the Jewish high holy day calendar in just ten days from now is Yom Kippur – the day of atonement where observing Jews are supposed to fast all day long to atone for the sins of the past year

This post will probably be first on my list.

Trader Joe's is not my friend

Like everyone else who appreciates badly-designed parking lots and checkout counters carefully placed at an illogical 75 degree angle, I shop at Trader Joe's.

I used to shop there because you could get healthier food at a cheaper price.

But the idea of eating healthy goes out the window when the shelves are stocked with tempting little numbers like these.

It's like the Pabst Blue Ribbon they sell at Whole Foods. Kind of takes the wind out of their healthy sales.

Now, I've spoken about the fact that I'm allergic to chocolate on here before, so I won't dwell on it. First let me just say thank you, but I don't need your pity. Second, I'll remind you that it doesn't close my throat or send me into shock or seizures. I just get stuffed up and sneeze - a small price to pay.

The other thing is I've been an orange and chocolate guy from way back. When there used to be a chain of Swensen's Ice Cream shops, they had a flavor called Swiss Orange Chip, which may be the best tasting chocolate/orange combination ever to be served on God's green earth.

A very close second, or berry close second (see what I did there?) is raspberry chocolate sticks. Flavor, texture, size - it just all works for me.

Except the sneezing part, but again, well worth it.

Anyway, the point is that as long as Trader Joe's carries these and many other sweet treats, I can't take their claims of "organic" and "healthy" very seriously.

Although I did hear that the raspberry and orange chocolate sticks are free-range and cage-free.

So that makes me feel better.

My own best censor

If we can't censor ourselves, who can we censor?

I was trying to think of something to post, and I started scrolling down my list of already published posts. Sprinkled throughout that list are drafts that I either started and never finished, or finished and never published.

The constant debate in the blogosphere is whether to self-police our posts, or just throw it all out there, consequences be damned. I've done both. But now I tend to be a little more discerning about the posts I publish.

I'd like to think the reason for this is that I've grown and matured as both a writer and blogger, and can see the value of being more selective in my writing.

Nah, I'm just messin' with ya. I just don't want to look like an ass.

Like most bloggers, I've occasionally used this forum to take after people and agencies in a big, bad, vicious kind of way. And I still say every one of them earned it. The problem is just because they've earned it doesn't mean I have to be the one dishing it out to them.

Almost always, having no filter leads you on the road to oblivion with both friends and potential employers (never a good thing for a freelancer).

If a friend of yours is wearing a hideous shirt - Tommy Bahama comes to mind - and you tell them, you've certainly told the truth. But to what end? What have you accomplished by it?

Now, this is not to say that every once in awhile I don't enjoy not only burning a bridge, but spreading dried leaves over it, some kindling wood then dousing it with gasoline and torching it. It can be very rewarding - but only if you're sure you're never coming back across that bridge again.

I've written posts, taken them down, then written apologies for having posted them in the first place. I used to dig my feet in and say, "It's my blog and I'll say what I want."

But, much like Jules in Pulp Ficition, it appears I'm in a transitional period.