I'll Be Your Roundabout, You'll See I'll Be There With You
So I heard in the news this morning that someone from the celebrity comunity is voicing that they feel bad for Michael Richards. Can you guess who? Give up? Mel Gibson. Mel mothafuckin Gibson. If you find yourself in a situation where you are outed as a racist, the last person you want standing on your side is Mel Gibson. I mean, I am in no way defending Michael Richards, what he did was completely full of hate and just the worst thing he could have said, especially on a public stage. It's completely effected the way I watch Seinfeld. And then you have Halocaust denying, Jew-hating, drunk-driving, monkey-raping, Mell Gibson coming to your side, saying that the racism spewing from Michael's tirade was just from Michael being stressed out? I don't think so. Shut Up Mel Gibson.
Then there is this outbreak of aquatic mammals attacking people out in California. What's going on there? I heard about a month ago about Dolphins attacking people in one of those "Swim with the Dolphins" things. Then yesterday I was reading about people being attacked by sealions at marinas and on their own boats. And today I see a news report about Shamoo attacking a trainer right before the last trick the whale was supposed to do at the end of the show. Can someone say "So Long, And Thanks For All The Fish"?
One story I forgot to mention yesterday about my trip to Florida was the Christmas Tree. All growing up, every year, my dad would put up a Christmas Tree and we would decorate it with ornaments from my dad's childhood and we would also get new ones every year from my dad's parents. We would then proceed to put our Channuka presents undernieth the tree for openning on approriate nights (unless Channuka fell well before Christmas that year, then it would just be nothing under the tree). That tradition stopped once my family started making regular trips to Florida for Christmas, where assembling a tree would be kind of silly, just to leave it unlit in an empty house. My parents and sister (and also now my brother) all live in Florida now, as everyone knows. Since they have been down there, the Christmas decorations have wallowed in the "Nazi Room" (a little room in the garage that was created by cutting a hole in the wall under the stairs, for storage, which looks like a place you would hide if the Nazis ever invaded Wellington, FL).
This year, with my brother being home, he declared (because my brother never asks or suggests) that he wanted a Christmas tree up again. My dad was completely for it, having lost his father earlier this year, and wanted something that would also serve as a semi-memorial. Every ornament my grandparents ever sent, always had a date on it with the name of who it was for, usually hand writen in sharpie on the bottom of the ornament. My sister was obviously all for it to, and while I was down there, I wanted to help put the tree up too. My mother on the other hand, was not really to enthused with the idea, and saw it as an endorsement of Christianity and a denial, of sorts, of our Jewish heritage. So it was originally a no on the tree. My parents neighbors were putting up their decorations, and asked me if I wanted to come help trim the tree (for you "full Jews", that's another way of saying decorating the tree). So we had a blast doing it, and then my parents came over. Since my dad wasn't going to have a tree in his house, he wanted to be sure the ornaments he originally bought for his parents, but has since inherited, would be displayed on an elligant tree. We were playing music from my Holiday music on my iPod (a collection of both Christmas AND Channuka songs) and having drinks, and sitting amongst all the Christmas decorations the neighbors had around their house (including all these miniature christmas villages). It was very festive, enough to lift anyone's spirits. So much so that it got my mom to change her mind.
We went to Target and bought a pre-lit tree in a box. We decorated it and raised it up on a trunk so the dog's wouldn't knock it over, and it looked great. My mom got so into it in fact that she even whipped out the Lolly-pop tree my grandfather had made, which is hard to describe, but basically it is a wood thing that folds out and your put lolly-pops in it's branches and it then looks like a christmas tree. We covered it in all the old ornaments, but just the ones with dates on them from my grandparents (as part of the agreement), as well as some Channuka decorations with white and blue beeds to highlight the "Jewishness" of it. To keep it "even" we also made sure to reffer to it as a Holiday Bush. But whatever we were calling it, it definately left a nice nostaglic feelin in all of us, and even though it was in the mid to upper 70's the entire time I was there, it still felt more like the season then it has in my years past in Florida. Not since we were visiting my Grandparents.
The reason I bring up this whole story is also to bring up another point. I am extremely proud of my mixed background. And I am also extremely proud of the fact that I was born to two Jewish parents (my dad converted, remember?) and raised Jewish, and still got to enjoy the traditions of my father's youth, such as Christmas, Easter, and anti-semitism (joke on that last bit). And through all these traditions, on both sides, I learned much, and (except when I was too young to know any better) I was never confused or conflicted about my identity of who I was. With all this, I have come to love the Christmas season. As I have said every year around this time (and on my journal since I started it), it's just so nice to see everyone so festive, and full of energy. It's amazing the spontanious giving, caring, and comercialism that pops up, and everyone goes with it, and has fun with it (well almost everyone, stupid suicidalists. Don't tell them I called them stupid). My dad wrote an op-ed article for the Sun Sentinel in Florida (if you get that paper, I believe you can still read the article online), which sums it up perfectly. I won't get too into it, you can read it online if you want. But one thing from the article I will reiterate, I have not associated Christmas with Jesus in, well I guess forever. Like when I see a Chirstmas tree, or Christmas decorations, the first fictional person that pops into my mind is Santa, not Jesus. I think festivities/happiness/peace, I don't think of religion/the bible/sobriety/convertion. Does that make any sense?
Another thing I am getting pretty sick of (Not Holiday Related), people calling me "Eric" because they forgot my name. It's one thing if you know me. Like, you for example, you and I are most likely friends, and if i don't know you, and you read this, you are closer to a friend then a stranger. If you, reader, were to call me "Erich" I would most likely take it as a nickname, just one friend calling another friend by their last name. Or if a boss/coach/higher authority were to call me Erich as a form of reprimand and/or praise, that would also be acceptable, because who am I to question people with authority over me (to their faces). But when people who I work with call me Eric because they don't know/think that is my name, that is just not acceptable, and extremely annoying. Just venting there on that one because it just happened.
Ok, lunch time.
Today's Entry:
-astic/-tastic - a suffix used to exclaim that something/someone/some event/some place is good/great/wonderful/perfect for what prefix is attached to it. Can often be used sarcastically.
Examples:
"That Kosher Restaurant was Jewtastic."
"The report I had to do at work today was worktastic."
Then there is this outbreak of aquatic mammals attacking people out in California. What's going on there? I heard about a month ago about Dolphins attacking people in one of those "Swim with the Dolphins" things. Then yesterday I was reading about people being attacked by sealions at marinas and on their own boats. And today I see a news report about Shamoo attacking a trainer right before the last trick the whale was supposed to do at the end of the show. Can someone say "So Long, And Thanks For All The Fish"?
One story I forgot to mention yesterday about my trip to Florida was the Christmas Tree. All growing up, every year, my dad would put up a Christmas Tree and we would decorate it with ornaments from my dad's childhood and we would also get new ones every year from my dad's parents. We would then proceed to put our Channuka presents undernieth the tree for openning on approriate nights (unless Channuka fell well before Christmas that year, then it would just be nothing under the tree). That tradition stopped once my family started making regular trips to Florida for Christmas, where assembling a tree would be kind of silly, just to leave it unlit in an empty house. My parents and sister (and also now my brother) all live in Florida now, as everyone knows. Since they have been down there, the Christmas decorations have wallowed in the "Nazi Room" (a little room in the garage that was created by cutting a hole in the wall under the stairs, for storage, which looks like a place you would hide if the Nazis ever invaded Wellington, FL).
This year, with my brother being home, he declared (because my brother never asks or suggests) that he wanted a Christmas tree up again. My dad was completely for it, having lost his father earlier this year, and wanted something that would also serve as a semi-memorial. Every ornament my grandparents ever sent, always had a date on it with the name of who it was for, usually hand writen in sharpie on the bottom of the ornament. My sister was obviously all for it to, and while I was down there, I wanted to help put the tree up too. My mother on the other hand, was not really to enthused with the idea, and saw it as an endorsement of Christianity and a denial, of sorts, of our Jewish heritage. So it was originally a no on the tree. My parents neighbors were putting up their decorations, and asked me if I wanted to come help trim the tree (for you "full Jews", that's another way of saying decorating the tree). So we had a blast doing it, and then my parents came over. Since my dad wasn't going to have a tree in his house, he wanted to be sure the ornaments he originally bought for his parents, but has since inherited, would be displayed on an elligant tree. We were playing music from my Holiday music on my iPod (a collection of both Christmas AND Channuka songs) and having drinks, and sitting amongst all the Christmas decorations the neighbors had around their house (including all these miniature christmas villages). It was very festive, enough to lift anyone's spirits. So much so that it got my mom to change her mind.
We went to Target and bought a pre-lit tree in a box. We decorated it and raised it up on a trunk so the dog's wouldn't knock it over, and it looked great. My mom got so into it in fact that she even whipped out the Lolly-pop tree my grandfather had made, which is hard to describe, but basically it is a wood thing that folds out and your put lolly-pops in it's branches and it then looks like a christmas tree. We covered it in all the old ornaments, but just the ones with dates on them from my grandparents (as part of the agreement), as well as some Channuka decorations with white and blue beeds to highlight the "Jewishness" of it. To keep it "even" we also made sure to reffer to it as a Holiday Bush. But whatever we were calling it, it definately left a nice nostaglic feelin in all of us, and even though it was in the mid to upper 70's the entire time I was there, it still felt more like the season then it has in my years past in Florida. Not since we were visiting my Grandparents.
The reason I bring up this whole story is also to bring up another point. I am extremely proud of my mixed background. And I am also extremely proud of the fact that I was born to two Jewish parents (my dad converted, remember?) and raised Jewish, and still got to enjoy the traditions of my father's youth, such as Christmas, Easter, and anti-semitism (joke on that last bit). And through all these traditions, on both sides, I learned much, and (except when I was too young to know any better) I was never confused or conflicted about my identity of who I was. With all this, I have come to love the Christmas season. As I have said every year around this time (and on my journal since I started it), it's just so nice to see everyone so festive, and full of energy. It's amazing the spontanious giving, caring, and comercialism that pops up, and everyone goes with it, and has fun with it (well almost everyone, stupid suicidalists. Don't tell them I called them stupid). My dad wrote an op-ed article for the Sun Sentinel in Florida (if you get that paper, I believe you can still read the article online), which sums it up perfectly. I won't get too into it, you can read it online if you want. But one thing from the article I will reiterate, I have not associated Christmas with Jesus in, well I guess forever. Like when I see a Chirstmas tree, or Christmas decorations, the first fictional person that pops into my mind is Santa, not Jesus. I think festivities/happiness/peace, I don't think of religion/the bible/sobriety/convertion. Does that make any sense?
Another thing I am getting pretty sick of (Not Holiday Related), people calling me "Eric" because they forgot my name. It's one thing if you know me. Like, you for example, you and I are most likely friends, and if i don't know you, and you read this, you are closer to a friend then a stranger. If you, reader, were to call me "Erich" I would most likely take it as a nickname, just one friend calling another friend by their last name. Or if a boss/coach/higher authority were to call me Erich as a form of reprimand and/or praise, that would also be acceptable, because who am I to question people with authority over me (to their faces). But when people who I work with call me Eric because they don't know/think that is my name, that is just not acceptable, and extremely annoying. Just venting there on that one because it just happened.
Ok, lunch time.
Today's Entry:
-astic/-tastic - a suffix used to exclaim that something/someone/some event/some place is good/great/wonderful/perfect for what prefix is attached to it. Can often be used sarcastically.
Examples:
"That Kosher Restaurant was Jewtastic."
"The report I had to do at work today was worktastic."