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November 24, 2010

My First Chanukah Gift

I received my very first Chanukah gift when I was 26 years old. But that is only because it was my first Chanukah in the United States.

In Iran, we did not exchange gifts on Chanukah. So when my friend Cindy placed the huge gift in my arms at a Chanukah party, I asked, embarrassed: “Oh, do you give gifts on Chanukah? I didn’t know that! Sorry, I don’t …”

Cindy, with a big smile, stopped me and said, “Don’t worry, welcome to America.”

I looked at the big wrapped gift on which Cindy’s handwriting read: “Dear Mojdeh, welcome to the United States/ From Cindy and Tom.”

I opened the package, and there was a big U.S. flag-patterned blanket inside. Overwhelmed by my first Chanukah gift ever, my bed has been covered with that U.S. flag blanket every day since then.

Lt. Col. Cindy Rosen, a member of the U.S. Marine Corps, was one of my very first friends in the United States.

Despite the fact that I had many relatives in Los Angeles, I had decided to move to Washington, D.C., where I had only a cousin, with the plan of mingling with American Jews and finding new friends there and pursuing the career I loved.

I arrived in this country on a Wednesday, and after some research and discussions, figured that a Conservative synagogue would be closest to my Persian Jewish culture. Only four days after my arrival in this country, I was sitting in the big sanctuary of Adas Israel Congregation of Washington, D.C.

Right after the Shabbat service, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked back and there was Rabbi Arnold E. Resnicoff, the military chaplain of the U.S. Navy. He spoke with me, asking a few questions, and warmly introduced me to so many other great people over the next few minutes in the shul, among whom Cindy Rosen was the first one. That day, I, as a lonely newcomer who did not know anyone except a cousin in that city, became friends with tons of wonderful people who touched my life deeply. That Shabbat, after the services, time flew by faster than I realized, and I was concerned that my cousin would be worried, wondering where I was. In the apartment where many of the young Jews of the synagogue were invited for a Shabbat lunch, Cindy guided me to a bedroom from which I could call my cousin without anybody seeing me using the phone on Shabbat! In reply to my cousin’s question, I said, “I am with my friends, and I am at a friend’s home for lunch.”

I will never forget her surprised and concerned voice: “Friends? Which friends?”

In this way, my unforgettable days in D.C. started. Lt. Col. Cindy Rosen’s life was so inspiring, and I was so proud to have people like her around me. Her devotion to her job and her country, her hard efforts and passion during her tough job, understanding that she was one of few Jewish women who could reach this rank in the Marines, made me a prouder Jew. And, of course, her life and work has inspired so many other people, I am sure. The appreciation ceremonies held for her, the articles about her courageous life published in the media Is all proof.

Although I left D.C. in about a year, my connection with Cindy continued. Shortly after, Cindy moved to San Diego to run communications for Marine Corps Air Station Miramar. She attended my wedding in Los Angeles. And I was delighted to hear that she met someone and was planning to get married soon. Then the war with Iraq began. I was shocked when I heard she was going to Iraq before getting married. She was in my prayers every single day until she came back; I remember I read somewhere in the news:

“Lt. Col. Cindy Rosen was sent to Iraq in December but hopes to return to the States by the end of June (2004) in time for her July 4 marriage to Rob Schwartz, a programmer/analyst at the University of California, whom she met in San Diego at a UJA Young Leadership social.”

I was relieved when I heard she had returned safely, and I was proud to be able to attend her wedding, as scheduled on the 4th of July,  2004. Her beautiful ceremony by the beach in La Jolla, Calif., along with the amazing ceremony of the bride walking down the aisle under the spears of two lines of Army officers on both sides, and the 4th of July fireworks right across from the wedding hall.

And I, of course, brought her a gift.

Mojdeh Sionit Afshani is a mother and writer in Los Angeles.

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Following in Maimonides’ Footsteps, Pursuing His Wisdom

On a recent trip to Spain, Morocco and Israel called “In the Footsteps of Maimonides,” the members of our group from Temple Emanuel of Beverly Hills were the honored guests at a reception at the residence of the American ambassador to Spain, which became the occasion for a gathering of many of Spain’s Jewish leaders.

I told them that we had come there because so much of Jewish tradition and culture was shaped there. Hebrew poetry blossomed in Spain and Morocco because Jewish poets interacted with their Muslim counterparts.  Maimonides was born in Spain, and through his studies in Morocco he was profoundly influenced by Muslim philosophers. It is impossible to understand modern Judaism without acknowledging the debt to Muslim and Christian culture during the period we call the Golden Age of Spain, from the ninth through the 12th century.

But it was the well-known Spanish sociologist Victor Pérez-Diaz, president of the prestigious Analistas Socio-Politicos Research Center, who gave the most moving talk of the evening:

“You are about to follow the steps of Maimonides, a wise, practical man,” he told us. One “willing to attend to the needs of his own community while addressing the plight of humankind. He left Cordoba early, only 13 years old, but we imagine he kept some memories close to his heart of Spain, or what was then called Al-Andalusia. … The hard truth is that Maimonides left to escape from the Muslim fundamentalists of that time. He left, but the majority of the Jewish community stayed — for another almost four centuries on both sides of the divide between Muslim and Christian lands. ….

“And then … came the cruel, merciless blow of the expulsion. The expulsion was done by an ecclesiastical, political and social ‘establishment,’ with the complicity, acquiescence and open support of society at large. On top of that, the expulsion of those Jews who didn’t convert was followed by the watching over, harassment and in so many cases prosecution even of those who did convert. …

“The Jewish community was completely wiped out of Spain. And we had to wait for almost three-and-a-half centuries to see a glimpse of a Spanish national reassessment of what had been done to the Jews. … In the last 30 years, some significant efforts have been made to express regrets for what happened. For example, in 1992, the king not only apologized about, but also described how the Jews’ parting had created an empty space in Spain. This statement, though, is only the beginning of what needs to be done.

“What has to follow,” Pérez-Diaz said, “what’s needed, is a change of heart — of society at large. It includes repentance, inner conversion and actual deeds. … Spain was wrong in expelling the Jews, but not just because Spain put such a disproportionate premium on religious conformity. We were morally wrong and we lost the crucial contribution that … Jews could have made to a better and more complex society.”

Pérez-Diaz went on to talk about some difficult truths, including the fact that, although the Jewish community in Spain is small and discreet, stereotypes of the Jews are widespread. So, also, are negative stereotypes about Muslims.

He concluded: “But, to put it simply, the problem is that Spain is, as of today, a rather unfocused and morally confused society, and this confusion translates into …  the sense Spain may have of its own history. Maimonides offers us, today’s Spaniards, some cues, a way to understand our situation, a guide to reach a certain measure of good sense. I hope that we Spaniards will learn from him.”

These words provided a lens for us on our travels. And that lens helped us learn from Maimonides — about the significance of our interaction with Islam, and about what happens when a society ceases being tolerant of minorities.

The Golden Age was complicated. At times Jews were powerful allies to the rulers, at other times they were in need of protection. We learned that Maimonides probably became a crypto-Muslim during his years in Morocco, something not often spoken about in scholarship about him.

We met fascinating people, including in the Jewish community in Spain and in the tinier Jewish community in Morocco, which was once vibrant and full of life. We realized that we, Jews in the 21st century from a synagogue in Beverly Hills, are living in another Golden Age — an era better in so many ways than the one we studied, but in which many Jews are not confident that Judaism can be enriched by thoughtful, intentional interaction with other religious traditions.

For me, one lesson jumps out from our trip. Even in this Golden Age of ours, stereotypes of another religious tradition are so rampant that, in Oklahoma, a place where there are very few Muslims, the state’s voters could approve a constitutional amendment banning Sharia law even for individuals who seek private mediation. The state amendment passed by 70 percent of the Oklahoma electorate. Few Muslims have actually sought this possibility! But as State Rep. Rex Duncan, explained, “It is a necessary ‘preemptive strike’ against Islamic law coming to the state.” As Jews, where members of our community sometimes seek to adjudicate disputes through a beit din as opposed to civil courts, this is indeed another manifestation of a dangerous trend.

Thankfully, a federal judge in Oklahoma issued a temporary restraining order barring the state from adopting the amendment. We live in a country where our federal constitution protects us from what happened in Spain. But we must remain vigilant. Muslim leaders in Oklahoma report there has been an increase in hate mail against Muslims since the election.

We know what Maimonides would say about this. He would be appalled. And he would be proud of the teenagers at Temple Emanuel who are part of a Muslim-Jewish teen dialogue, now in its second year, who met last week for a discussion about Islamophobia and anti-Semitism. The Torah portion the week before their meeting was Toledot, “generations.” It challenges us to think about what we need to learn and pass on to our children from our ancestors’ experience. We know we want to pass on what we learn from “the footsteps of Maimonides.”

Laura Geller is senior rabbi of Temple Emanuel of Beverly Hills, a Reform congregation.

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How to Be Chanukah Holy

As a Jewish kid growing up in Omaha, Neb., I was engulfed by Christmas. We were the only house on the block without decorations, my public school had a Christmas tree in the lobby, and the airwaves and shopping malls were filled with Christmas music. I have to admit — those Christmas songs were pretty catchy; some of them were downright beautiful. I mean, really. Compare “Little Drummer Boy” with “I Had a Little Dreidle”? No contest. I know a lot of Jewish educators and rabbis of a certain age who are closet carolers.

One of my favorite hymns: “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.” Written in 1739 by Charles Wesley, brother of the founder of the Methodist church, the words were eventually adapted to music by Felix Mendelssohn, a German composer, born into a Jewish family. Who knew? The song talks of angels proclaiming the arrival of a messiah, a messiah Jews don’t believe in.

Actually, we have a hymn in our liturgy that is quite similar to “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.” It’s not a Chanukah song; it’s a prayer — the Kedushah. In the Shabbat Musaf version, we sing:

“We revere and hallow You on earth as Your name is hallowed in heaven, where it is sung by celestial choirs in Your prophet’s vision. The angels called one to another: Kadosh, kadosh, kadosh, Adonai Tzeva’ot, m’lo khol ha-aretz k’vodo — Holy, holy, holy is Adonai Tzeva’ot. God’s Presence fills all the earth.”

The moment of singing “Kadosh, kadosh, kadosh” is accentuated by a choreography that is, for me, one of the highlights of Jewish worship. Each time the word “kadosh” is said, we rise on the balls of our feet, heels off the ground. Why? Because we are reminding ourselves that we are called upon to be higher than mammals, to aspire to be a little like the angels, God’s partners on earth. When I was a child, no one in our Conservative synagogue did this. Today, in nearly every synagogue I’ve visited, across the denominations, most people have embraced this little dance of holiness.

Chanukah is a good time to rededicate ourselves to the idea that we can be earth angels. In my book “God’s To-Do List: 103 Ways to Be an Angel and Do God’s Work on Earth,” I recalled that Abraham Joshua Heschel titled his masterpiece “God in Search of Man.” When I read the book as a teenager, I thought: “Doesn’t he have it backward? Isn’t religion all about human beings searching for God?” No, Heschel taught, God is looking for us to be God’s eyes and ears, hands and feet and, most of all, God’s heart. Doesn’t God have the angels to help out? God doesn’t depend on angels; God depends on you to be an angel.

The question is: How? How can I rise up and be God’s partner on earth?

The answer is found in the Torah: “Kedoshim ti’hiyu, ki kadosh Ani Adonai Eloheichem” — “be holy, since I, your God, am holy” (Leviticus 19:2). In other words, be like God. Figure out what God does, and then you do it. Each of us is created “b’tzelem Elohim,” in the “image” of God. We have the spark of divinity in us. The way to ignite it is to emulate God’s middot, God’s characteristics.

Here’s an idea for a Chanukah celebration. As you light each night’s candle, dedicate yourself to being an angel by following God’s example. Look to the Torah as your guide. For example, the first thing God does is create — “When God began to create …” If God is creative, you can be creative. Use your God-given gift of creativity to fashion a first-night Chanukah gift that is not store-bought. Paint, photograph, post a YouTube video, compose a poem, write a tribute, bake cupcakes.

On the second night, emulate the second thing God does in the Torah: bless. God blesses the animals, human beings and the Shabbat. If God can bless, you can bless. Hang a string over your Chanukah celebration center, cut out eight dreidle-shaped pieces of construction paper, and ask family members or friends to dedicate each night to a “blessing” in their lives. Hang each night’s “blessing dreidle” on the string after you light the chanukiyah.

The third thing God does in the Torah? God rests. If God had to take a day off, shouldn’t you? This year, the third night of Chanukah falls on Shabbat, so put away your cell phone, turn off the computer, and give yourself a break.

We are called to be repair people — l’takein olam b’malchut Shaddai — to repair the world to bring God’s presence. So, on the fourth night, take some latkes or sufganiyot (jelly doughnuts) to a homeless shelter.

Check out other ways to be an angel in “God’s To-Do List,” and rededicate yourself this Chanukah to being God’s partner on earth.

Happy Chanukah!

Ron Wolfson is Fingerhut Professor of Education at American Jewish University, co-president of Synagogue 3000, and author of “God’s To-Do List” and “Chanukah: The Family Guide to Spiritual Celebration” (both Jewish Lights).

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Black-and-White Nostalgia

It is fashionable these days to say that all causes and issues are complicated. Polarity is out, complexity is in. There’s more than one side to every story, and you must appreciate the nuances and subtleties of a subject instead of digging in your heels and yelling to make your point. A month ago, the coolest voice in America, Jon Stewart, gathered a couple hundred thousand people in Washington, D.C., just to make that point.

His cause was the very idea of causes and how to engage without screaming past each other. In polite company today, it’s hard to disagree with anyone who tells you, “It’s not black and white.”

Well, it turns out that’s not true. There really is such a thing as black and white.

I saw it firsthand the other night at the American Jewish University during a panel discussion of Gal Beckerman’s new book on the Soviet Jewry movement, “When They Come for Us, We’ll Be Gone.”

Just consider this: Rabbi Chaim Seidler-Feller was leading the panel, and there were no fireworks or controversy whatsoever. When’s the last time that happened?

At no time during the evening did anyone say things like, “Well, in all fairness to the Soviet regime, there’s another side to this story…” Or, “We have to remember that the Jews in the Soviet Union were somewhat responsible for their predicament,” or “It’s not as simple as you’re trying to make it out to be …” and so forth.

That’s because there was no “other side” to the Soviet Jewry movement. It was the cause that brought Jews together, the cause to end all causes; what Sam Freedman calls “one of the great liberation struggles of modern times.” Millions of innocent people — in this case, Jews — wanted the freedom to flee oppression. How do you beat that?

Over the years, I’ve met countless Jews who were personally involved with the movement. I’ve heard about the marches, the demonstrations and the clandestine visits to the Soviet Union. For some reason, when Jews reminisce about the Soviet Jewry movement, they get all misty-eyed.

It was the same thing the other night. In addition to Seidler-Feller and Beckerman, L.A. County Supervisor Zev Yaroslavsky sat on the panel and shared his own war stories of his days as a Soviet Jewry activist in the 1970s. No matter how much the panelists tried to inject some controversy — internal disagreements within the movement on the methods of protest, the division between the “renegade” activists and the established institutions — it was all pretty tame. It was clear that when it came to the justness of the cause, there was zero controversy.

The evening was a rare Jewish love-fest.

As the panelists were waxing nostalgic, I had this crazy thought: What if, instead of the Soviet Jewry movement, the subject of the evening had been the modern-day movement of Jewish settlers in Judea and Samaria? What if a legal expert was making a compelling case that Israel’s presence in the West Bank was in strict accordance with the norms of international law, while a representative of Peace Now was making the exact opposite case? What would be the mood then?

Would it be “Masterpiece Theatre” or “Animal House”? Would Seidler-Feller be calling politely for questions or would he be calling for security?

Here’s the thing that the evening brought home for me: I think we’ve run out of epic, black-and-white causes. A woman’s right to vote was a black-and-white cause. A black person’s right to sit in the front of a bus was a black-and-white cause.

A million people’s right to flee oppression from a communist regime is an epic black-and-white issue. It’s a political issue with no nuance and no other side.

For the Jews, where have all those issues gone?

Expelling 8,000 Jews from Gaza? Starting a defensive war against Hamas? Pushing for a second settlement freeze when the first one didn’t seem to help? Taking out Iran’s nuclear weapons? Pushing for peace talks that keep failing? No matter which side of these issues you’re on, you can’t tell me they’re black and white.

The problem, as I see it, is that while so many of our modern-day issues are anything but black and white, our body language is so often only black and white. Jews from the left and right fight for their views with the same certitude that Jews fought for the freedom of Soviet Jews.

We are nostalgic for the absence of ambiguity. It’s hard to go out and march and yell for a cause that is full of nuance. So we pretend the nuance doesn’t exist, and we take out the placards and do our yelling.

We are also nostalgic for finality and resolution. One of the remarkable aspects of the Soviet Jewry movement was that it had a beginning and an ending — a clear black-and-white ending.

The only clear black-and-white ending I see these days is that we have no more black-and-white issues. 

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Topsy-Turkey

To get our Thanksgiving turkey, I pulled my car into an alley off Pico Boulevard one day last week, parked beside a dumpster, walked up to a couple of unmarked vans and rapped on the doors.

Great, I thought, I’ll either get a delicious, free-range kosher turkey or be kidnapped.

Inside were stacks of boxes that had arrived that morning from an Amish farmer in Pennsylvania. Each contained a kosher, free-roaming Heritage breed bird that had been slaughtered in as humane a fashion as the word “slaughter” allows, then frozen and shipped to a few dozen Los Angeles customers.

Millions of Americans can get their hormone-befouled, cage-confined, factory-farmed, genetically mutant turkeys for a few dollars at any supermarket, but to get one that tastes good and isn’t a self-basting environmental disaster, I had to make numerous e-mail and phone arrangements with Got Kosher? — KOL Foods’ Los Angeles distributor. I paid about $7 per pound and skulked around Pico-Robertson feeling both elitist and low-life.

Something is topsy-turvy in a food system that makes it easy to get food that is bad for you and your environment and hard to get the good stuff.

The idea that we, in our generation, could begin to change all this is what drove me to Turin, Italy, last month for Terra Madre, the biennial conference of the Slow Food International movement.

(Want to have a difficult conversation with your spouse? Try convincing her that you’re going to a food conference in Italy for four days for “work.”)

The Italian writer and intellectual Carlo Petrini founded Slow Food as a reaction to the McDonald’s-ization of his culture. But it has moved beyond just opposing fast food or fetishizing all that is local and artisanal, to supporting policies and cultures that ensure a food system that produces healthy, good food accessible to all.

The U.S. branch of the movement has grown to almost 250,000 people in all 50 states. It works on food legislation, promotes a national campaign for healthier school lunches, and has a network of local chapters helping food producers and marketers. Josh Viertel, all of 32 years old, is the stateside leader. I spoke with him in Turin. He is 6-foot-3, with a deep voice and a presence that manages to be both commanding and gentle. A Harvard grad, he developed and co-directed the groundbreaking Yale Sustainable Food Project and also spent time as a shepherd in Sicily. 

You might wonder, as I did, how this interest and activism blossomed in a Jewish kid raised on Beverly Glen.

“My parents weren’t farmers,” he said, as if he needed to. “But food was incredibly important to us.”

Earlier, in a speech to Slow Food USA’s 700 delegates, Viertel put it this way: “It was at the table I first learned to share. It was at the table I first learned to think critically. It was at the table I first learned to disagree with people and still really love them. At the table, it is hard not to see more about what you have in common.”

Viertel didn’t mention that he was Jewish, so I just asked him. The table he had described may sound generic, but to my ears, it sounded deeply familiar.

He nodded but didn’t have much more to say about it. The Slow Food movement, from Petrini on down, is much more comfortable in the language of academia, gastronomy and political engagement than in the realm of the spirit.

“Why doesn’t Petrini work through churches and synagogues?” I asked Viertel. Isn’t there a spiritual component to food, to feeding people, to stewardship, that would make religious institutions possible allies?

“I don’t know,” Viertel said. “You should ask Carlo that.”

I didn’t get that opportunity, but I did get to spend two more days at the conference. 

And what I took away, bottom line, is that the people at Terra Madre, the activists around the world involved in the Slow Food movement, are engaged in what is the most important social movement of our day.

It’s happening right before our eyes, but it’s easy to miss. Why? Unless there are police with batons and protesters in the streets, the press doesn’t see a social movement. But this is a big, radical movement, a grass-roots one, and if it succeeds, the fundamental structures of our society will change, from the way corporations do business, to the laws that govern food and land rights, to the very taste of the stuff we put in our mouths. 

I’m convinced that, even taking into account the law of unintended consequences, these changes will repair so much that is broken in the world: our environment, hunger, obesity, human rights, animal welfare, the taste of our food. 

Perhaps that is why the movement resonates among people for whom those are primary values. Slow Food is shot through with Jews, from Viertel, to Paula Shatkin, the former Angeleno working to save Gravenstein apple orchards in Sebastopol, Calif., to Sam Levin, the 15-year-old founder of a school garden movement in Massachusetts. Its principles are shared by other specifically Jewish groups like Hazon and Adamah.

“We have to stop thinking of real food as a privilege,” Viertel said. “We have to think of it as a universal right.”

And by focusing on food, the movement has found perhaps the most powerful lever for changing so much that is wrong in society. The production, distribution and consumption of food touches on every aspect of our lives, from topsoil maintenance to gender roles.

I believe it ultimately touches on the vitality of our own souls as well.

The seat of our soul is our flesh, wrote the talmudist Adin Steinsaltz, and our flesh is composed of food. What and how we eat is as much spiritual as physical.

In such a world, maybe buying your turkeys from a van in an alley constitutes, in its way, holiness.

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Miracle in the Mojave

Ed Rosenthal didn’t mince words when he told members of the press about his rescue after spending six days in the Mojave Desert without food or water.

“It was a miracle,” he said. “I’m much more religious now than I was.”

The 64-year-old recreational hiker took off on a two-hour hike in Joshua Tree National Park on Sept. 24 but lost his way on a trail he’d done several times before. When he was found alive and relatively healthy by a sheriff’s helicopter on Sept. 30, his story quickly made national and international news.

On Oct. 5, after being rehydrated and checked over in the hospital, Rosenthal addressed a downtown Los Angeles press conference. Sitting at a table covered in microphones, he told his harrowing story, almost without emotion. His deep, Brooklyn-accented voice is perfectly suited to deadpanning, and he cracked a few jokes that morning, including one about making friends with a horsefly.

Rosenthal dropped his “miracle” comment in toward the end of his remarks, and more than one reporter in the room laughed. (You can hear it on an audio recording made by KPCC.) But Rosenthal wasn’t kidding about his spiritual reaction to this experience.

“Seriously,” Rosenthal told them, “I prayed for rain, and it rained.”

Every Chanukah, Jews celebrate miracles that happened thousands of miles away, thousands of years ago. Ed Rosenthal’s miracle happened only a few hundred miles away, only a few months back. This is his story.

Rosenthal describes himself as a “poet-broker,” as in the unlikely mixing of poetry and real estate. Born on the Lower East Side of Manhattan and raised in Queens, Rosenthal has been writing poetry since the sixth grade. Over the last few decades, living in Culver City, he has also brokered sales of many historic buildings in downtown Los Angeles.

He’d gone to Joshua Tree to celebrate the completion of his latest deal. Rosenthal regularly hiked alone, and he was familiar with the route from Black Rock Campground to Warren Peak, having done it five or six times before without incident.

“You can see the Mojave, Palm Springs, and San Gorgonio and San Jacinto,” Rosenthal said, describing the view. “It was beautiful. I was relaxed, I had a nice lunch, and I felt great. I had just done two deals downtown, and I was going to go back to the hotel and relax, like I always do,” he said.

“Then I lost the trail.”

Rosenthal has no idea why, but he ended up going down through a chute and into a series of canyons. “Each canyon was more difficult to get into,” he said. “Each level had a bigger and bigger drop.” He often found himself holding onto trees and rocks to keep from falling. He kept going until he reached a drop that he could not descend. “There was no turning around,” he said, so he climbed up and over a hill. On maps, the hill is labeled Burnt Hill, and Rosenthal remembers it being bleak, dusty and brown — completely befitting its name.

He didn’t have a map or a watch. “I had a compass, but when you don’t know your point of origin, it doesn’t matter,” he said. So he climbed the hill. “The first day I wanted to get back to something. I kept looking for signs, and I kept seeing mirages of signs that weren’t there.”

The temperature hit 93 degrees in Joshua Tree on Sept. 24. Rosenthal kept walking, eventually finding a trail that led him into another set of canyons. Park rangers would later show Rosenthal a map of where he had walked on that first day. “It turns out these were unexplored canyons,” Rosenthal said. “They told me that I walked, like, 20 miles, which is just unheard of,” he added. “I never walked that far in my life.”

As he went, Rosenthal named the canyons, perhaps the first names they had ever had. The one he remembers most vividly is the canyon he passed through near the end of that first day, Friday, just before reaching the Mojave Desert.

“This Hard Rock Canyon, which I went through, was this gorgeous purple canyon that came up out of nowhere,” Rosenthal said, “and you didn’t have a choice of whether you went through it or not … there was no turnoff.”

Its walls rose to a height the equivalent of about seven stories above his head. “I remember the whole thing,” he said. “The slate shooting up, the different-colored slate, had all kinds of random angles. It was brown and purple, a little pinkish.”

When he thinks back on his ordeal, Rosenthal feels a great deal of affinity for a number of the spaces he walked through, including Burnt Hill, and especially Hard Rock Canyon. “It was majestic; it was just gorgeous,” he said.

Nevertheless, there was danger in the beauty. “It was really a gateway to hell, because after I went through it, I soon saw within a few miles, everything was turning browner, the walls of the canyons were drying out, all the plants on the hillside were brown; there was no longer a mixture of green and brown. So, really, it was a gateway to hell. But somehow I was so attracted to it.

“And I was thinking,” Rosenthal said, “that’s where I would die. It wouldn’t be bad to die in this Hard Rock Canyon. I wouldn’t care. I only cared about my wife and daughter. As a 64-year-old, I felt, ‘What do I care if I drop dead? I’m already a poet-broker. I’ve sold all these historic buildings. I have a wonderful family. So what if I drop dead?’ And that’s where I would’ve wanted it to happen.”

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The Culinary Art of Pasta Inspires Puppet Show

“PASTA! A Pop Ups Puppet Musical” follows around two wannabe-chefs (Jacob Stein, Jason Rabinowitz) who scour Brooklyn in search of the best pasta ingredients. 

The show comes to Los Angeles for several performances between Nov. 23 and Nov. 28.

In “PASTA!” Stein and Rabinowitz bring out the acoustic guitars and sing songs from their recently-released children’s-rock album, “Outside Voices,” drawing from a diverse range of genres, like alternative rock, dance and indie, and featuring lyrics about food, animals and more.

During a recent interview, Stein emphasized his and Rabinowitz’s intention to make a show that appeals to all ages. “If you can straddle the line between entertaining both the kids and the adults, it’s a real success,” Stein said.

The new set of shows marks the duo’s return to Los Angeles, after several dates in the Venice area last summer.

“We decided to come back to L.A. because the fans out here have great energy,” Stein wrote in a recent email. “Once the show ended in July, we received emails asking us when we were bringing the show back to LA.”

In real life, Stein and Rabinowitz met in Brooklyn while working together on another puppet show—one for Passover.

“We hit it off,” Rabinowitz said, adding that when they rejoined to record “Outside Voices,” which eventually inspired their “Pasta” musical, “we both wanted to make a record that was sort of our own personal unbridled fun project. And we did.”

Their love of other well-known shows with puppets, such as “Sesame Street” and “Avenue Q,” influenced their decision to turn their record into their very own puppet show.

“When someone asked us to put together a different show,” Stein said, we thought, “let’s go with something we both love doing…puppets.”

“We have the puppet gene,” Rabinowitz said.

The show sees Stein and Rabinowitz juggling multiple tasks, including, of course, manning the puppets, at one point attaching them to the tongues of their Converse, playing live music and providing a live drawing demonstration.

The show features eights songs along with puppet characters whose names, such as Mr. Clunkhead and Fruta Di Marme, a mermaid, Stein and Rabinowitz hope will appeal to kids.

“I think that everybody can have a lot of fun with puppets,” Stein said.

Tue. Through Nov. 28. All shows at 3:30 pm. (except Sat., Nov. 27 at noon). $15. MiMoDa Dance Studio/Theater, 5774 W. Pico Blvd., Los Angeles. thepopups.com/pasta.

The Culinary Art of Pasta Inspires Puppet Show Read More »

Daniel Pearl case lawyer resigns?

On Nov 14, the Prosecutor General for Sindh province, Shahadat Awan, confirmed that the special public prosecutor in the Daniel Pearl murder case, Raja Qureshi, had resigned.
Awan was speaking to The Express Tribune newspaper, where I run the metropolitan section. Awan was talking to our court reporter Zeeshan Mujahid about security concerns for lawyers fighting terrorist cases on behalf of the state.
The Pearl case was moved to the southern Pakistani city of Hyderabad, which is two hours by road from Karachi. (Not to be confused with the Hyderabad in India). Sensitive cases are transferred between the two cities if the jail authorities believe that the man standing trial has too many buddies in jail. The terrorism cases are mostly tried in jail for security as well.
When asked about the resignation of Raja Qureshi, the SPP in the Daniel Pearl murder case, Awan told The Express Tribune that the trial was moved to Hyderabad for security reasons. He said that the government had paid Qureshi Rs2.5 million and each of his aides Rs0.5 million to fight the case. The Sindh Prosecution department received a number of letters from the trial court in Hyderabad, according to which the SPP was not appearing for the trial.
Upon inquiring, it was found that no one was appearing on behalf of the state, said Awan. After that I wrote a letter to the Home department, stating that a huge amount was paid to SPP Raja Qureshi and if he is not conducting the case, he may be asked to return the fee or the “facility” provided to him be withdrawn. This might have prompted the Home department to with draw the police escort and this is perhaps why he resigned, said the PG, adding that he would look into the matter of his resignation on Monday, Nov 22.
[This news sounded a little convoluted to me and I am waiting for the reporter to follow up on this case. I do not believe Qureshi resigned only over security complaints. But more on that once I’ve ascertained the facts. I need to also add here that the Daniel Pearl case is a complex one with many, many facets. This blog is not the proper place to discuss its intricacies and I cannot purport to know certain elements of the case. I have heard many, many things over the years, terrible things. But none of them can be confirmed without risk, especially to the reporters who can provide me information. The case is at the appellate stage now and I believe there are two sets of accused.]
But I did not start writing this post because of this case alone. There was something else I wanted to bring up.
Lawyers fighting terrorist cases have been in the spotlight in Karachi. In fact, there was a disturbing development last week, as you would have seen on television.
On Nov 12, Karachi was literally rocked by a bomb blast – the meteorological office said it hit a 1.3 on the Richter Scale. Terrorists attacked the office of the Criminal Investigations Department with enough explosives to blow a 15-foot deep crater in the ground and decimate the building. The CID police are the cops who go after the terrorists in Karachi and they had recently been making some high-profile arrests. Many people believe that the attack was an act of revenge, but there is still debate on exactly what the motive could have been.
The terrorist attack was the largest Karachi has seen in terms of damage, journalists argued. It took place in the red zone which encompasses three five-star hotels (The Sheraton, The Pearl Continental and the Marriot) and Chief Minister House and Governor House. Mercifully, only 17 people were killed but about 100 people were injured. When we saw the first footage trickle in, we gasped in the newsroom and I had been certain that the toll would have been in the high double digits.
A few days later our newspaper’s court reporter Zeeshan Mujahid filed this story:

Lawyers baulk at fighting terrorist cases
KARACHI: Apparently terrorised by Thursday’s attack on the Criminal Investigation Department, government lawyers fighting terrorist cases went to court, saying they feared for their safety.
Muhammad Khan Buriro, a prosecutor for anti-terrorism court III, headed by Judge Anand Ram Hotwani, moved an application in a case against alleged members of the Tehreek-i-Taliban Pakistan for attacking AIGP Farooq Awan of the Anti-Violent Crime Cell. Buriro expressed concern for his own security. The court adjourned the proceedings till Dec 1.
Mubashir Mirza, the state-appointed special public prosecutor for ATC II, headed by Judge Syed Hasan Shah Bokhari, moved a similar application. He said that because of perceived threats in phone calls from unidentified members or supporters of terrorist outfits, he could not risk his life and fight cases unless he received appropriate security and an escort.
He was scheduled to make an appearance in a case against Lashkar-e-Jhangvi activists involved in the abduction and murder of a trucker managing a fuel tanker service for Nato forces in Afghanistan. The court accepted his application, condoned his absence and adjourned the trial till Nov 20.
Buriro later told journalists that the level of threat had increased after the recent terrorist attacks in the city. Their fears were genuine, he said, giving the example of an incident at the city court in which accomplices of a terrorist organisation freed their men from police custody.
“We have raised the issue of security at all government levels, including the Home department and then with the Prosecutor General, but as no security was provided, we were left with no choice but to inform the court,” Buriro said.
For his part, Prosecutor General Sindh Shahadat Awan referred to the Mehram Ali case, considered a landmark judgment for anti-terrorism courts (ATCs).
The apex court had a detailed hearing after which a number of sections were struck down. After scrutiny of the ATC law, the court held that judges and prosecutors of ATCs shall be given security till a case is finalized up to the apex court, that is all stages and appeals exhausted, he said.
“Their demand for security is justified, they are working hard and with honesty and in view of the nature of the cases they are handling as SPPs, they should be given proper security cover,” said the PG. He has raised the problem with the Home department but the situation in the city is such that additional police force is not available.

The terrorist attack on the CID building sent across the ugly message that even the city’s top investigators, brave anti-terrorism cops such as Omer Shahid, Fayyaz Khan, Chaudhry Aslam, etc. are not safe. No wonder the lawyers are scared. But if we don’t prosecute and put the terrorists behind bars, we will be even less safe.

 

Daniel Pearl case lawyer resigns? Read More »

Give TSA A Chance

I fly some 200,000 miles a year on airlines throughout the world. My work takes me to many cities, large and small, and many different countries so I have a great personal interest in two conflicting needs at the airport: security and speed.

As one who often flies several times a week the difference between checking in one hour in advance or two hours in advance can add up. It can cost me an entire workday a week. I hate waiting in lines and like George Clooney in Up in the Air appreciate and take advantage of the many courtesies that airlines make available to their frequent fliers from special lines, to use of airport lounges, to upgrades and even to companion flights. On vacation I prefer those places I can drive to for flying in anything but fun,

I was subject to a body scan at Chicago’s O’Hare airport last week and found nothing objectionable to the process. Contrary to the reports of other people’s experience I was asked to empty my pockets and stand with my two arms raised while the machine took my picture, twenty seconds later I was told that I could go. There was nothing invasive about it, nothing inappropriate. And if wherever the observer was he/she had a clear look at my body, I had no knowledge of it, no awareness of it and it was as unobtrusive as possible. The reviewer did not know my name, did not know what flight I was taking and had no idea of how to contact me afterwards even if he or she to want to take advantage of the private bodily information they viewed. I was one of several hundred people going through the lines , so there is anonymity in numbers as well.

I suspect that almost all travelers will agree with me and all should agree that airplane security is an essential national and international interest. So let us give TSA a chance and not get hysterical. I thank TSA for protecting my personal security each time I go through the security lines. The job is pressured, the tasks are repetitive and frankly boring and the people in line are tense about whether they will make their flight or even about flying in general.

There are enough problems in the modern world about intrusions into our privacy, This is not one of them, Say thank you and smile and enjoy safe flying,

Give TSA A Chance Read More »

‘Hard Rock Canyon’

by Poet-broker Ed Rosenthal

When the sky was a torch
I trusted in murky mirages
That rose from the wash
You follow from Burnt Hill
Down to the purple mystery
That I call Hard Rock Canyon

She doesn’t ask you: ”Would
You like to turn here or there?”
You follow her like mother’s skirt
Clinging to her pleated sides
Of purple and mauve plates
As she motions to the Mojave

When the sky torches you
And plays on the prickly pear
Turning limbs to ghostly signs
Your heart rises to see her
Thrust up like flowered yucca
Turning the wash to a wisp of light

Behind you. Or was she
An organ played by the sun
The slates purple keyboards
Was I his tiny congregation
Trudging her turning bottom
Lifting my eyes to heaven?

Regardless
Looking back at burnt Mojave
It’s not lying like a lifeless log
On the pebbled furnace surface
The pilot’s arms lifting me upwards
Or tears of my wife and daughter

That brings tears to my eyes.
But bursting slates of hard rock
Broken from the bound of earth
Rising in random rose striations
Riding the sky in a winding line.