I Got the Horse Right Here

Each summer Sean and I accompany friends, Jerry & Basha, to horse racing at Woodbine Raceway.  

I love racing.  I grew up near Roosevelt Raceway, and we'd go as teens to watch the trotters.  I've been to the races at Saratoga, and now, we head to Woodbine.  It's a lovely evening.  Year one we won over $200, after deducting our bets.  Year two it was somewhere between $150-200.  This year luck was not with us, but we spent a whole lot more time laughing.

We get to Woodbine in time for a drink and to relax a bit before the first race.  As we peruse the the racing form, Sean & I try very hard to remember how to read it.  We look at the stats.  We look at the comments by the professionals.  I look at the names of the horses & the colors the jockeys wear.  I would often bet on the name or color alone.  

This year we tried to use the stats.  Luck was definitely not a lady tonight.  We won on three tickets, none paid very much.  In fact, on the last ticket ($6.00) we won $4.60.  Yes ladies and gentlemen, we won and lost on the same ticket!

Still, for a night out, it was wonderful.  This year's collection of horses were not impressive, to say the least.  The best I could say about most of them after reading the comments of the professionals was, "meh."  However, it made for a very funny evening reading the comments, a total lack of inspiration in these animals as they were shifted to lower and lower levels to try and win.  Still, with all in the same class, we saw some great racing.  There were five photo finishes.  Two of these ended up being a dead heat to show.  (That's third place for all you racing neophytes.)  One horse, Bare Humor, in the fourth race won at 50:1 odds.  Once I was sure my bet was losing, I was thrilled to cheer on the  50:1 long shot.  It doesn't get better than that. (Well, maybe if I'd bet on him. He paid out $110.70 on a $1 bet to win.)

All in all, Sean and I spent less than $30 for an entire evening out, including betting every race.  We laughed (very hard) at the extreme unimpressedness of the horses (yes, I did make up that word), and spent a lovely evening with friends.  

The hope and plan is to head back in the fall with the kids.  I'd love to take them to the paddock, or to watch a turf race standing at the rail.  These are beautiful, powerful, noble creatures that make me marvel at God's creation.  The betting is fun too.  Next time I'm going back to my sure-fire horse picking method.  I'm betting on the jockey wearing blue and silver or maybe the bold choice of purple.  Can do.

Ekev- God is in the Details

I was once at an event where Rabbi David J. Wolpe was speaking. I was a student, and had tagged along with his brother, now Rabbi Dan Wolpe, to help sell books afterwards. Rabbi David opened his talk with the following words, “God loves you.” These were words not often spoken by rabbis at that time. We talked about God’s love for the Jewish people. We talked about God’s protection, mercy, and righteousness, but not about God loving us. It sounded like an old -time preacher. The language seems not to be the way we, as Jews, normally talk. Parashat Ekev reads like that. 

“And it shall come to pass, because ye hearken to theses ordinances… the Lord thy God shall keep with thee the covenant and the mercy… and He will love thee and bless thee… He will also bless the fruit of thy body and the fruit of thy land, thy corn and thy wine and thy oil.. Thou shalt be blessed above all peoples; there shall not be male or female barren among you, or among your cattle.  And the Lord will take away from thee all sickness…” (translation- Hertz Humash

It is a beautiful picture. If only we, as a people, would follow God, all would be, not just well, but perfect. Unfortunately, we know this is not true. The Jews have not always seemed blessed. Rather, as the joke says, “God, sometimes, could you choose someone else?”. Illness does not stay far from those who follow the mitzvot, and infertility is a very real and painful problem in our community.

Oh, but some will say, this was a different time. Others declare, “Circle the wagons!” Leading to an ever-right moving Haredi community. The idea being, if we could only separate ourselves from the sinful influences of the outside world, this could come true.

Reality is harsh. This is a beautiful picture. It is a picture we should strive to attain, but it is also an illusion. The Torah is not a literal text. It is not a straightforward history. The Torah is a theological text. It speaks in theological and ideological terms. When the Exodus tells us 600,000 souls left Egypt, there was no turnstile at Yam Suf counting the people as they crossed the sea.

So where does this leave us? It leaves us back in a dream state, but a dream state we should want to attain. As a people we have, throughout the centuries, suffered greatly, even when observing the mitzvot. As individuals we know that life is not always fair; that justice seems to evade those who deserve it, for the better and the worse. Still, Jews are the eternal optimists. Even among the thorns, we strive for achievement. We see learning as our pinnacle. And the result is we make the desert bloom; we help with infertility; and we work towards preventing and curing disease.

Examine the achievements of the Jewish people. Examine the achievements of our modern State of Israel, especially considered in the light of its mere 64 years. See that we, as a people and as a modern state, are still here despite the odds. There have been “great trials… and the signs and the wonders, and the mighty hand…” God is in the details.

Aches, Pain, & Aging

As my readers know, I kick-box.  I do it twice a week when life doesn't get in my way.  On off days I work in the garden (lots of kneeling, squatting, and up and down) and walk.

Not to toot my own horn, but I have always been athletic.  I'd love to take credit, but it's genetic.  I'm also wonderfully flexible.  At 44 I can do a split and lift my leg over my head without stretching out.  The senseis tease me about showing off when we stretch.  I'll admit that sometimes I do show off.  Sean and the kids are all in better shape than me, and this is one of few areas where I can beat them.  Sean & Jesse can't touch their toes.  I am still a tiny bit quicker than Jesse in the way I move, and have better stamina, but it's fading.  I always expected that as the kids and I aged they'd surpass me in abilities, but I'll take what I can as long as I can.

Kids aside, I'm sometimes amazed at the effect of aging on my body.  Sean has a favorite saying, "when you hit 40 the wheels fall off."  Forty is a significant age.  The body's physiology changes, and you really move into the next physical stage of life.  You don't heal as quickly.  You're more likely to injure yourself.  I have hit that stage.  Doing things that used to mean nothing hurts.  Last time we packed to move I pulled both rotator cuffs.  After rest and physio it still took over a year to fully heal; well, as fully as it's likely to.  I no longer wake with pain in my shoulders, but it still twinges now and then.  I strained my right knee in December.  It comes and goes.  With proper rest (a long one), it'd likely heal fully, but that means giving up kickboxing for at least two months, and that I cannot do.  And so, each day after kickboxing, or gardening, or whatever exercise I choose to do, I accept the pain with which I wake.

The Marines say "pain is weakness leaving the body."  My response is usually, "pain is the body's way of saying, 'STOP!!!'"  Reality is I've lived with pain for decades.  I've had chronic knee problems since I'm twelve.  One day, I think I was in my twenties, I woke without pain in my left knee.  I assumed my knee was numb.  It took a few minutes before I realized it simply didn't hurt.  So I accept the pain.  Pain  doesn't stop me.  As I age, I realize that I'm going to be sore.  I'm going to hurt.  The more I push myself now to get into better shape, the more I'm going to hurt.  I'll accept that.  I'll push, and I'll work through it.

Coach Herb Brooks, of the US Miracle on Ice hockey team, is believed to have said to his team, "Grow  through pain."  If you want to accomplish something, you have to be willing to give your all.  I may be aging, and I may be achy, but I plan to go into the future healthy, and if it takes a little (or a lot) of pain, I'll accept it.

Grow through pain, and come out better on the other side.

Dreaming the Olympic Dream

I'm catching up on the Olympics.  It's too bad.  Not that I am catching up, but that I have to.  Almost a week in, and I had watched none.  Part of this is due to the fact that we got rid of our cable.  Part of it comes from the change to alternate the summer and winter games so they are every two years.  We always seems to be gearing up for the next one.  I'd claim that most of it comes from being too busy.  But are we really too busy?

Sean & I once stayed up all night in Israel to catch the Superbowl.  We have become jaded.  There are so many sporting events,  bowls, and world championships that we no longer feel the importance.  Where is the national pride with which I watched, mesmerized, the Miracle on Ice in 1980?  How about the perfect 10 scored by Nadia Comaneci?  I was taking gymnastics as a kid, and was fascinated.  My eyes were glued to the television.

I have been watching the opening ceremonies.  Hats off to the queen for jumping from that plane.  (If you don't know what I'm talking about, you should look it up.)  She's quite the trooper, an amazing woman who has opened two Olympics, Montreal and London.  My eyes teared as the torch was passed and lit.  Young athletes were nominated to "carry the torch for a new generation."  From the previous generation to a future generation, the torch was passed, and lit.  I challenge you to watch that without emotion.

The Olympics have already been fraught with controversy.  I argue that this isn't so important.  Of course it's important in the scheme of fair play.  But it's controversial because we, even we old jaded people, believe in the Olympic dream.  We believe, or desperately want to believe, that we can come together, without politics, peacefully, to dream the dream, and allow the true nature of sportsmanship and fair play win out over the politics and the hatred too often seen in the world.

I could go on about 1972, but that's for another blog entry.  For now, I am embracing the dream for the next ten days.  I hope you'll join me.

Backyards and Barbecues

Laptops are a wonderful thing.  I am currently typing from my lanai.  (That's patio in English.  We have multiple sites on our property that can all be called by the same name, so have named them in various languages to save confusion.  It doesn't work.  We forget which is which, but one can hope.)  Anyway, I am sitting outside because I am lighting the barbecue, and one should never leave a flame unsupervised- scouts 101.  I am also sitting outside because it is beautiful.  The yard faces north, so is generally shaded at this time, although there is some sun on the mirpeset, aka the deck.  (There's also an enclosed porch, which we generally call, "the porch.")  A breeze is blowing, and I can hear the wind chimes tinkling.

There are wonderful sites out here.  Gandalf, our cat is cavorting.  He is overweight, and comes into the yard for exercise.  He likes to chase the butterflies.  He's not very good at catching them, but it is amusing for all to watch.  (Nora, our other cat, cannot come outside without a close chaperone.  Unlike Gandalf, who is too large to jump very high, Nora is amazingly agile.  She has leapt the six foot fence more than once, and so her yard hours are very limited.)

Currently, I am admiring my garden.  I learned to garden from my father.  He is a true gardener.  If there is soil it will be filled with a beautiful garden.  None of the normal things.  Dad likes rock gardening (No, not the Japanese way), and fills his gardens with interesting alpines and other plants from nurseries.  I am not a true gardener.  In fact, I don't really like it.  What I do love, though, is the harvest.  Currently I have growing english cucumbers and hairy cucumbers, broccoli, asparagus, and leeks in the first bed.  There are eight beds.
Bed 2- coriander, flat leaf parsley, Italian sweet peppers, green bell peppers, red peppers, buttercup squash.  Actually, I planted the squash in bed three, but a squirrel or other animal decided two plants belonged here.  Sean & I call that accidental gardening.
Bed 3- scallions, thyme, another herb I forgot  the name of and the squash I planted
Bed 4- lettuce, bush beans
Bed 5- yellow cherry tomatoes, red cherry tomatoes, beefsteak tomatoes
Bed 6- marigolds, carrots (small round ones good for growing in clay-like soil
Bed 7- Nasturtium, 3 kinds of basil, more lettuce to be ready at summer's end, and garlic
Bed 8- parsley and pumpkin

The pumpkin is taking over part of the yard, but I have an ACTUAL PUMPKIN and lots of flowers too.  The squash has grown into the beans and tomatoes, and the tomatoes have grown into the beans.  It's beautiful and yummy.

It's also an opportunity to visit the neighbors.  We have more produce than we can possibly eat.  Some went around the block last Shabbat.  More will go to the neighbors this week, especially to a new family who moved in down the block.

On to barbecues...
Barbecues are summer's bonus.  This year our barbecue died.  It lived a good life, but it's past its usefulness.  We haven't replaced it yet.  We have a fire pit.  My brother bought it for my birthday one year.  We've returned to charcoal, and use the pit.  It works.  It's also better for toasting marshmallows.  One Shabbat we had barbecue chicken and smores for dessert.  We made them prior to Shabbat.  Wrapped in foil, we left them banked on the edge of the pit, staying warm from the ash that was left.  It was a lot of fun.

Another wonderful thing about barbecues is the heat stays outside where it should.  There's no heating up of the kitchen, nor steaming of the windows.

Barbecue is also a team effort.  There's no saying "too many cooks spoil the barbecue."  It's the perfect thing to stand around the barbecue in a clump of people.

Barbecue can also span the range from the crudest to the most refined.

At the bottom level is the Israeli barbecue- take a reshet (a screen, sometimes a real screen, sometimes a grill) to your site.  Sometimes people bring a hibachi, sometimes there's just a hole in the ground, and you hope the fire won't spread.  Next you pour kerosene over your fuel (sometimes charcoal, sometimes gathered wood); toss a match, and pray (We Jews are a religious people.).  Food is usually chicken- pieces, drumsticks, or wings.  Actually, tonight we had Israeli Chicken.  The chicken is frozen whole, then cut into slices with a band saw.  It's cooked frozen so the pieces stay together.  YUM!

At it's most cultured, barbecues are used at fancy catering events.  I once slow-roasted a turkey breast on our grill.  It took four hours, but was juicy and delicious.

God bless summer.  God bless the backyard, and God bless the barbecue.