~~ Overheard at We the People March: “tRump screwed my uncle out of $800.00 in plumbing supplies in the 90s. In 2016, my uncle told everyone who would listen, ‘He’s a bum.’”
~~ If you know someone who dumped on Greta Thunberg, there’s help for him or her: https://twitter.com/i/status/1177178666402365440
And why the heck haven’t you cut such a cruel person out of your life?
~~ All we wanted to know was if the shop had Mets’ tee shirts in sizes smaller than 18 months. Turns out the answer was no, as they didn’t want to have too much inventory on hand if the Mets didn’t make the post-season. While that info should have taken just a few seconds to impart, the salesclerk we asked was in a very talkative mood — by the time she came up for air we knew she was one of four girls that weighed at least eight pounds each at birth, but that their older brother “greased the skids and broke it down for us” when mom gave birth to him naturally at almost nine pounds. TMI? Of course, but she wasn’t done! Her family calls her the “baby whisperer” because she can induce her nieces and nephews to sleep quickly no matter how they fuss for the parents. She was ready to share more, but people who wanted to make actual purchases were getting antsy at the register. So the nap enticer left us before she had a chance to bore us to sleep as well.
~~ The Mets’ season comes to a close this weekend, again without a postseason appearance. Nevertheless, the second half of the season was (mostly) a lot of fun and an escape from our country’s reality. Wait until next year!
~~ Two things many people know about me: 1) I detest the fall and winter seasons, and 2) I love my family. Now they come together as I get to write about the commencement of a new season this past Monday and the start of Rosh Hashanah Sunday night.
For a week, most of what I’ve heard from yoga teachers is about the new season. “It’s a period of transition,” a time for “reflection and letting go,” “a reminder of life’s fleetingness,” and “nature’s lesson on embracing the present.” Enjoy, they say — days and nights are semi-equal so we should be in balance, the winds of autumn blow out all the summer’s heat, etc.
The problem is, I don’t want to blow out anything but the blather about the fall being a marvelous time of year. I bring a lot of negative energy into fall celebration classes because I want to hold on to every bit of summer heat. I enjoy the season’s carefree nature — a tee shirt, shorts, and flip-flops are all you need to set out on an adventure. I relish the greens, yellows, pinks, purples, reds and other lush colors of summer, and I adore the smell of salt air and ripening melons. Why is it OK for so many to squeal with delight at corn mazes, pumpkin spice, and multi-hued dying leaves, but I can’t defy the season’s greeting with a frown and a longing to linger in summer?
I know the seasons change whether I’m aboard or not, and I’m sorry if I upset the rejoice and renew karma in my classes, but I am not veering from the liveliness of summer to the autumn die off with any inclination towards dignity or gratitude.
This is the holiday that kicks off a brand new year for Jews. In a way, it’s as futile to pray to some capricious deity for a long, healthy, prosperous life as it is to yearn for a return to flip-flop weather. However, with Mother Nature being so rightfully vengeful, it’s probably a coin flip whether I win the lottery or enjoy 80 degrees in November.
Therefore, I’ll just reflect on the comfort to be found in familiar faces and welcoming hearts at the holidays. At the synagogue we attend, there’s no preaching about retribution. And at the holiday table, there’s just love without judgment (OK, there is that whole chocolate versus cheese fondue thing, but I don’t partake in either). What more can a person pray (chant, implore, beseech, plead, hope) for than a table bursting with love from a supportive family?
No matter where you stand on autumn’s graces and regardless of whether you celebrate Rosh Hashanah, I wish you and yours kinship and happiness.
Dasvidaniya. Have a great weekend!
LET’S GO METS!