“Let the old year and its curses end; let the new year and its blessings begin” (Babylonian Talmud).
The other day my daughter sent me an Instagram post that featured an “influencer” (I think this means someone who likes skin care) posting about the weather. I know, what could be more banal than the weather, but I guess when you’re an influencer even the weather becomes witty and trending.
Most of the time, don’t talk to Jews about God. It’s, like, rude. Like talking about intimate private matters in a public space. Like asking people how much their annual income is. Gross or net. Don’t do it.
I don’t know how much longer we will be wearing masks, but I’m going to assume they’re here for the long-haul. So I finally went online and ordered myself a pretty cotton one on Etsy, instead of continuing to wear the disposable ones that somehow made me feel like maybe this is just a bad dream that is imminently going away. It seems the nine dollar investment into a “real” mask was an inner statement that this isn’t ending soon.
I always write my columns for the Cleveland Jewish News a week-and-a-half in advance. I submit them on Thursday and they appear the following Friday. This means that I have to take a look at the calendar and fast-forward my mind. I determine what kind of mindset people will be in the following week based on whatever is going on on the calendar, and try to write accordingly. Sometimes I just write neutral pieces, but I try to make it timely whenever I can.
Gilded cages keep us captive
For the sin that I have sinned before you in not calling my parents and in-laws more often.