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August 31, 2011

Sam Worthington on Playing a Holocaust Survivor and Mossad Agent in “The Debt” [VIDEO]

When Sam Worthington (“Avatar,” “Terminator Salvation”) walks into an interview at the Four Seasons Hotel, he looks nothing like the tormented Holocaust survivor and Mossad agent he plays so soulfully in the spy thriller “The Debt,” opening Aug. 31. His short-cropped hair and clean-shaven mug has given way to long, scruffy locks and a wild reddish beard he’s grown to shoot “Drift,” a surfer drama set in the 1970s in Australia.  When asked about the bracelet he’s wearing, embossed with the letters “C-H-E-W-Y,” the Aussie actor laughs and explains, “It’s because I’m hairy, like Chewbacca [in “Star Wars].”

He adds of the “Drift” filmmakers:  “They said to grow everything out.  So I look like Zach Galifianakis at the moment.”

In “The Debt,” 35-year-old Worthington plays David, one of three Mossad agents sent to East Berlin in the 1960s to kidnap and bring to Israel for trial an infamous Nazi doctor, dubbed the “surgeon of Birkenau” (Jesper Christensen).  His comrades are Rachel (Jessica Chastain) and Stephan (Marton Csokas), an ambitious agent who hopes the mission will boost his career.

David, who lost his entire family in the Holocaust, is motivated by the debt to the 6 million; he is determined to bring the war criminal to trial, in a civilized fashion, so that the entire world can learn of his deeds.  But when the plan to kidnap Doktor Dieter Vogel goes wrong, the repercussions haunt and threaten to destroy David.  When a lie the agents tell about the mission threatens to emerge in Tel Aviv in 1997, another kind of debt must be paid.

Each character is played by two sets of actors:  Worthington, Chastain and Csokas are the agents in the ‘60s, while the older thespians Ciarán Hinds, Helen Mirren and Tom Wilkinson, respectively, portray the characters three decades later.

Worthington is best known in this country as an action star, but “The Debt’s” director, John Madden, saw the actor differently when he flew to the “Terminator” set in Albuquerque to convince him to play David.  “James Cameron’s ’Avatar’ had not yet come out, nor had ‘Terminator Salvation,’ although the Cameron film was breaking a lot of ground and bringing Sam a lot of attention,” Madden recalls of the time.  “But I had seen Sam in this little Australian film called ‘Somersault’ [2004], and he popped into my head for ‘The Debt’ because he has this unusual quality that you don’t see very much in the movies he’s made since.  He is very masculine; he’s got a very powerful, heroic presence, but he’s also got a hidden kind of emotional fragility about him, which he is not noted for, particularly, but it’s definitely there.  That was what I noticed immediately about him in ‘Somersault,’ and I thought you needed both sides of that coin for the character of David.

Worthington was impressed that the British director had traveled all the way to New Mexico to pitch his film:  “I thought, ‘Any man who’s willing to fly to f——-g Albuquerque, how could I not sign on?’  John is an eloquent man and a great storyteller; his work is quite diverse, from ‘Shakespeare in Love’ to ‘The Debt,’ which I found interesting.  So it was quite an easy sell, to be honest.  And so I said, ‘Why not?’”

When I asked Worthington about the so-called “Holocaust fatigue” experienced by moviegoers, given the plethora of such films, he said he doesn’t view “The Debt” as a Holocaust movie.  “It’s about guilt,” he said, “and carrying a weight and a burden, and the ramifications of your actions when you harbor something like this secret and live off that secret for the rest of your life.  Can you get away with it?  And when it does bite you in the butt, how do you handle it?

“You can read a mountain of books on the themes of the Holocaust and tracking down war criminals,” he added, “but the movie is much broader and bigger than that.  It’s a taut thriller that delves into the repercussions of one’s actions, whether it’s a Nazi war criminal or a brilliant African drug lord.  It’s about any kind of event that ripples throughout your life.”

Here are more excerpts from the interview:

Q: How did you prepare to play the role of David?

A:  I tend to do my research off the scripts; everyone’s process is different.  Me and Ciaran [Hinds, who plays David as an older man] met, and I said, ‘Here’s how I’m looking at the character:  He’s a ticking time bomb; he’s the quiet one of the group, he holds his losses inside of him, but he has the most passion. Therefore when he lets Vogel get to him, and they can’t finish the mission, that starts him on a downward spiral.’”

Q: You rehearsed and shot the scenes in which the agents hold Vogel hostage in an East Berlin apartment on a set inspired by the paintings of Francis Bacon.

A: We had a very intense rehearsal period and then actually shot those scenes in order, like on a stage, so it felt like a little play. But by the time we finished we felt like rats kind of crawling to get out of the house. We all wanted to knock the whole place down, which kind of helped, because the characters are supposed to feel claustrophobic.  We’d been in there for five weeks; we’d gone from playing happy family to this guy is sh—ing and peeing on the floor.  So the reactions are true, and that’s what I liked about it.  I wanted out; I didn’t like being there.

Q: What was your approach to the scenes in which the Nazi doctor taunts your character as a Jew?

A:  John [the director] said, “Just keep it really contained, don’t do f—k all.  Whatever you’re feeling, whenever this guy’s attacking you, don’t move a muscle; just sit still.  You do stoic better than any other f—ing actor, so we might as well exploit it instead of you getting burned for it for once—we’ll try and get you commended (laughs).

Q:  You learned the Israeli martial art, Krav Maga, for the role.

A:  They trained us a lot but I find any physical action quite easy, to be honest.  I found it interesting that Krav Maga is an attack form of defense.  You fight people who are going at you; you might get struck in the head four times but it doesn’t matter.  If you are taking on a guy with a knife, the chances are you’re going to get knifed.  Krav Maga is a forward-thinking action, and that, to me, is also a way of understanding how the Israelis think.  It’s a forward way of thinking; it’s what they believe in; they believe their belief is correct and they go straight for it, so I found that parallel interesting.

Q:  What was the biggest challenge for you on this film?

A:  The accent.  I always struggle with accents and everyone bags me for it, but that’s something you just keep learning.  It’s a weird accent because we’re doing German dialect with an Israeli accent on top of an Australian accent in my case.  So the voice coach got us all together and we found a kind of solid, universal sound we could all aspire to.

Q:  There’s a remarkable story about how you accidentally became an actor – as a result of accompanying someone to an audition for drama school.

A:  I was a bricklayer; I built houses.  And I did go an audition with this person for moral support, except that I got in, and she didn’t.  In hindsight, it’s because I was willing to do anything.  And it beat mixing cement for the day.

Q:  Where does the future of the new “Avatar” films stand right now?

A:  Jim [James Cameron] has told me the idea for films two and three, and it’s fu—ing huge.  I think the plan is to shoot both at the same time, because then everything’s in place, but it’s massive.  At the moment, I know he’s doing a lot of other things.  But this is monumental, and he’s not going to start it until he knows he can really push the envelope again.

Q:  When you do something like “Avatar,” with all the special effects, and then something like “The Debt,” which is so gritty and tactile – which kind of experience do you find more rewarding?

A:  Each movie is its own beast, its own kind of journey.  I don’t mind green screen, I don’t mind working with nothing, and I don’t mind doing smaller movies like this that I grew up on in Australia.  Each job has its own challenges, and its own kind of joys.

Q:  Was it easier working with Jessica Chastain in the upcoming film, “The Texas Killing Fields,” after acting with her on “The Debt?”

A:  In “The Debt,” we’re scared young lovers, in the beginnings of a potentially blossoming romance.  And in “Texas Killing Fields” we’re at the end of a relationship; we’re divorced.  Jessica and I have had this film kind of relationship, and we’ve also become friends, so it was easier for me.

Q:  What is John Madden like as a director?

A:  He has an ease with direction.  He lets you do your work, he trusts you, he hires you for a reason.  Some directors hire you and then try to mold you, which is ridiculous.  I was hired because of 15 years in this industry and 30-odd movies, so I know what I’m bringing to the table.  John lets you do it and if he does have any sense of direction, he does it in such a tactful, easy way that you kind of don’t even know he got you there. It’s like a cat with a bit of tin foil: it’s beautiful.

 

 

Sam Worthington on Playing a Holocaust Survivor and Mossad Agent in “The Debt” [VIDEO] Read More »

Letters to the Editor: Israel’s renewal, Arab Spring, Boyle Heights, Glenn Beck

Evangelical Trouble for Salon Nation

David Suissa’s “Salon Nation: Israel’s Struggle For Renewal” (Aug. 26) was excellent in describing what common-sense actions should be taken. Unfortunately, too many changes are required before Israel could be considered a “light unto the nations.” In my opinion, the best chance for peace would have been Israel’s unilateral establishment of a Palestinian state after the victorious Yom Kippur War and the signing of the Egyptian peace treaty.

I have spoken to intelligent Jews who are delighted with Glenn Beck and the financial support that Evangelical Christians give Israel, saying “any port in a storm.” These Jews know that the Rapture, and Christ’s Second Coming, will mean the end of Judaism, but choose not to see that they are reinforcing the canard that Jews are only interested in money.

Martin J. Weisman
Westlake Village

Through the years I have mostly enjoyed David Suissa’s columns. He presents a more moderate view than most of your columnists. However, on occasion, Mr. Suissa lapses into progressive mantras. In his article, “Salon Nation” (Aug. 26), Mr. Suissa pleads the case for social justice in Israel. Many of his points are well taken; however, the danger of social justice devolving into a welfare state is real and dangerous. Israel, thanks mainly to Benjamin Netanyahu as finance minister, transformed Israel from largely a socialist state to a free-market economy, thereby vastly reducing and stabilizing Israel’s inflation rate, while creating a tremendous boom in technology. Israel must resist pressure to return to a welfare state.

Israelis have just complaints concerning the high cost of living; however, there is a big difference between necessary commodities and non-necessities. If, for example, the cost of cottage cheese is excessive, stop buying it. Free market supply and demand would soon adjust the price more favorably. The government, to be sure, must play a role when it comes to necessities, such as housing and gas prices. Israel must stop trying to appease the world with regard to a Palestinian state. Is it not clear to everyone that the so-called “Palestinians” are not interested in a two-state solution? Israel relinquished the territorial name to the Arabs. Prior to its becoming a state, all the people of that area were called Palestinians−I still have a pushka box I contributed to as a child. On the blue and white box were a Mogen Dovid and the name “Palestine.” They are all Palestinians.

Israel demonstrated poor judgment in welcoming Arabs after the war of independence. The Arab leadership used their impoverished people as pawns to eliminate the “Zionist entity.”  Now Israel must deal with the unintended consequences of a huge Arab population who does not profess allegiance to the Jewish state. Judea and Samaria rightfully belongs to the Jews, and building, which will alleviate many of the street’s complaints, should be intensified.

Perhaps I would be more sympathetic if and when the United States returns to Mexico the land that it had stolen as a result of Manifest Destiny. Mexico has a far greater claim to this land than the Palestinians have for Judea and Samaria.

Finally, Mr. Suissa says, “Israel, with all its flaws and mistakes, has invested great energy over the years trying to be loved by the world.” When speaking of “flaws and mistakes” Mr. Suissa should balance this remark with the flaws and mistakes of the Arabs and Islamists. By comparison they are negligible. Furthermore, Israel does not need to be loved by the world, which will never happen, but rather it needs to be feared.

C.P. Lefkowitz
Rancho Palos Verdes


True Roots of the Arab Spring

We are all inspired by the Syrians standing up to tanks and naval shelling and striving to be human, to be free (“Man Up,” Aug. 26). And the Libyans, and the Tunisians.

But have you considered that the Arab spring was, in fact, inspired by the overthrow of Saddam Hussein by the coalition led by the United States and President George W. Bush?

Those purple fingers, indicative of Iraqis who had voted, were not only seen in American newspapers, but also on Al Jazeera and throughout the Arab world. Arabs saw an Iraqi people for the first time free of a tyrant and trying to express themselves in new political ways.

Call it a coincidence if you prefer, but I see a direct connection between the sacrifice in blood and treasure on the part of the coalition forces and nations and the Arab spring that has blossomed.

David Schechter
Los Angeles

Rob Eshman is right in admiring the heroism and dedication of the unarmed Arab masses facing down tanks and armed soldiers. However, Eshman is making the mistake of superimposing our Western values upon Arab revolutions that involve other factors. In the case of Syria, Sunni Muslims and Kurds have been brutally ruled by a minority Alawite (Shiite) sect under the hegemony of nearby Iran. In Syria, Sunni imams have been exhorting the masses to revolt — hardly a Jeffersonian democratic revolution. In Egypt as well, the minority of western-style revolutionaries are overpowered by the Muslim Brotherhood. Israel is now keenly aware of the toxic effects the Egyptian revolution have unleashed. The newfound power of the Islamists with the recent ouster of Mubarak threatens the Egyptian-Israeli peace agreement itself, while in neighboring Libya al-Qaeda is currently seizing power under cover of the “rebels.”

Richard Friedman
Los Angeles


Boyle Heights Remembered

While it was interesting to read about Boyle Heights (“The Nickel Pickle,” July 15) through the eyes of Shimona Yaroslavsky, there is so much more to that town than there was in Shimona’s world. I went to Sheridan Street School and Hollenbeck Junior High with her from 1948 to 1953. We were friends, but our lives only overlapped in certain areas. While she introduced me to Zionism, Habonim activities and conversational Hebrew, my family’s Jewish world was centered on the Breed Street Shul. 

When I came to Boyle Heights in 1948, many Jews were already migrating west and north. I developed friendships with young people from an abundance of cultures, which provided insight that has served me for almost 60 years since my family moved west. 

In none of the stories I read about the “Jewish” Boyle Heights was there a mention of the State Street Playground or the Jewish Community Center. These were places that colored the “no computers” world of young people with a bevy of activities beyond home and school. The playground activities included girls’ and boys’ clubs, field trips to places like the San Diego Zoo and the Cabrillo Beach lighthouse,  putting on plays with costumes and American holiday celebrations. My memories of the Jewish Center include membership in the Blue Star Young Judea and Jewish holiday celebrations like Purim plays ( I played Ezra the Scribe) and parties.

I had Jewish friends from every spectrum of Jewish life (including young Holocaust survivors); Mexican friends, Japanese and Chinese friends, and one African American friend. I learned a lot from all these people and their families and from partaking in their cultural activities, as well as my own.

I wonder how many of your readers have similar memories of this wonderful place to live in a special window of time. Did they go up to the “haunted house” on Brittanica Street at Halloween? At one time or another we probably stood next to each other while perusing the comic book section of the magazine stand on the corner of St. Louis Street and Brooklyn Avenue.

Just reminiscing.

Shelly Iltis
via e-mail


Israel’s True Friends

With “friends” like Glenn Beck, Israel need not worry about enemies!

Aviva S. Monosson
Los Angeles


Israel Should Offer Know-How to Egypt

The Egyptian-Israeli situation, as described so eloquently by Leslie Susser (“Attacks Pose New Challenges for Israel,” Aug. 26), poses potential problems of the highest magnitude for the State of Israel and its people. It also provides a golden opportunity for achieving peace in the Middle East. Bear with me and I will explain.

The rebellion against Mubarak basically was a response to the Egyptian people’s strong desire for better lives for themselves and their children. Indeed, that is at the core of the Arab spring. Meanwhile, Israel has developed an outstanding economy and infrastructure, providing its people education, growing industries, jobs and healthcare. With that in mind, here is my suggestion:

Israel, with strong advocacy support from the U.S. government, should offer its know-how and intellectual resources to guide Egypt to become a more productive country, with well-paying jobs and health and educational facilities for its people. Israel would supply the know-how, including relevant consultants and expertise; and oil-rich Arab countries would provide the finances to implement the economic/infrastructure plan in Egypt.

Think of the far-reaching consequences of such a program. In the final analysis, it may well be the best way to achieve real peace in the Middle East. Action speaks louder than words. Seize the opportunity.

George Epstein
Los Angeles


Commandment or Suggestion?

Mr. Prager, I had one wife for 46 years until she died of a brain tumor. I never committed adultery and I remain a widower. In your column on the Ten Commandments (“Still the Only Solution to the World’s Problems,” Aug. 19) you write regarding the seventh commandment, which is do not commit adultery, “Observance or even near-observance of the commandment…” Near-observance? What a strange thing for you to condone. So I have to ask you this question, because you preach in so many of you columns, have you ever committed adultery in you marriage or marriages, whichever the case may be? If so, please write a column on it, for I find hypocrisy contemptible, because one who pretends to be what one is not should not be writing for The Jewish Journal or any decent publication. I suggest you get a job writing for NewsCorps or the Koch brothers. If I am wrong about questioning your keeping of having kept the seventh commandment then please explain to me and the readers of The Jewish Journal what you meant by “near-observance.” In my copy of the Bible, Exodus 20:12, the seventh commandment, states only these five words, “Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

Leon M. Salter
Los Angeles


Ageism From the Pulpit

Shame on Rabbi Hanish and shame on the Board of Rabbis as mentioned (“Hollywood Writers Help Rabbis Punch Up Their Sermons,” Aug. 26), one of whom is my own Rabbi Topp and another is my son’s Rabbi Brous, both of whom I love and respect.

Last year the Writers Guild brought a class-action lawsuit against the Hollywood producers and agents for discriminating against writers based on their age; “ageism” we called it. We won a large settlement in that action. And now again we, who were nominated for Emmys 10 years ago, are discriminated against by a rabbinical group, which should be the most tolerant of all.

I would venture a guess that only a group of rabbis from Chelm would turn down assistance on a speech from Neal Simon, Carl Reiner, Mel Books, Norman Lear or Woody Allen, all in their 80s.This year Rabbi Topp accepted a joke for his sermon from Shirley Turteltaub, my wife, age 78, which he repeated from the pulpit very well and got a big laugh for it.

Surely this is sloppy thinking on the part of Rabbi Hanish, which I will personally forgive him for if he doesn’t invite me to the next meeting. No writer of any age wants or needs another meeting.

Saul Turteltaub
Beverly Hills

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Let’s take our story on the road

When I first heard that famed architect Daniel Libeskind is being commissioned to design the National Museum of the Jewish People in Washington, D.C., my first thought was, “Is this really necessary?”

Plans call for the museum to take up part of the site currently occupied by the Old Post Office building on Pennsylvania Avenue. According to its Web site, the museum will “define what Jewish culture is and … consider how, throughout history, Jews and Judaism have affected and been affected by the array of cultures and civilizations with which Jews have been in contact or in which they have been embedded.”

Wasn’t it only last year that the National Museum of American Jewish History opened in Philadelphia, with great fanfare? According to that museum’s mission statement, its purpose is to “connect Jews more closely to their heritage and to inspire in people of all backgrounds a greater appreciation for the diversity of the American Jewish experience.”

Perhaps the organizers of the Washington project feel a national Jewish museum belongs in the national capital. Of course, Washington already has the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum (not to mention the Lillian & Albert Small Jewish Museum and the National Museum of American Jewish Military History). The Holocaust museum isn’t a Jewish museum per se, but it is dedicated to an essentially Jewish narrative.

One could argue — as its planners do — that a D.C. museum dedicated to Jewish contributions “will thereby balance the tragic story told” by the Holocaust museum. Yet it still raises questions about communal priorities. In a torpid economy, Jewish communities are struggling to fund education, identity programs and social services. You have to wonder if the better response to the “tragic story” told at the Holocaust museum is a cause dedicated to, well, living Jews.

It turns out that Washington actually had a national Jewish museum. The B’nai B’rith Klutznick National Jewish Museum was housed at B’nai B’rith’s headquarters on Rhode Island Avenue. Since the sale of the building in 2002, the collection — which includes George Washington’s famous letter to the Hebrew Congregation at Newport — has been in limbo. As the Forward reported last month, “[P]rogramming ceased long ago, and the museum, to all intents and purposes, is on life support.”

A new Jewish museum in Washington would join the National Museum of the American Indian and the National Museum of African American History and Culture, which is scheduled to open in 2015. These museums are justified — first, by way of atonement, and second, to remind visitors to the capital of the two defining cataclysms of American history. The museums memorialize the victims of slavery and Western expansion while celebrating their cultures and accomplishments. The stories they tell serve as a vital counterpoint to the largely celebratory narrative of the National Mall.

Jews are also central to American history — but so are a host of ethnic and religious groups. Washington shouldn’t become an ethnic Epcot, with every group telling its story in a building designed by a celebrity architect. It’s a sort of special pleading that runs counter to the most powerful message of the Smithsonian, the monuments and many other sites on or near the Mall — that is, we are all in this together.

And yet we deserve to have our story told, and Americans of all backgrounds should hear it. Perhaps there is a solution to this proliferation of Jewish museums, one that celebrates our accomplishments while honoring — here’s the neat part — the Jewish genius for dispersion, replantation and acculturation.

What if various museums and collections were to combine forces on one terrific traveling exhibition, picking out the choicest artifacts and technologies and bringing them to cities and towns large and small across the country?

Imagine a “pop-up” museum akin to the pop-up restaurants and boutiques that are currently the buzz of Manhattan. A Wandering Jewish Museum would spring up in a town, generating publicity and excitement. It could tell the Jewish story in places where not that many Jews live, to people who may not visit a Jewish museum when they vacation in New York or Washington. Local Jewish historical societies and museums could add their own artifacts, demonstrating how their story fits into the larger sweep of American-Jewish heritage. In each new location, the exhibit, like the Jews themselves, would have to adapt to new geography, new local cultures, and different laws and regulations.

If Jewish history tells us anything, it is that we have to constantly reinvent ways to tell our story. According to Pirkei Avot, Moses received the Torah at Sinai and passed it to Joshua, who passed it to the Elders, who passed it to the Prophets, and so on. Eventually this oral tradition gave way to a written one. Jewish life was once centered on the Temple rituals. When the Temples were destroyed, the Jews were forced into exile but seized it as an opportunity to create a portable faith, one that adapted to circumstances but remained grounded in the stories and rituals of the past.

When it comes to telling our stories to ourselves and others, it’s time for getting our artifacts together and taking them on the road.

Andrew Silow-Carroll is editor-in-chief of the New Jersey Jewish News.

This article is reprinted with permission from the New Jersey Jewish News, which can be read at njjewishnews.com.

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Don’t confuse Assad and Gadhafi

Think kiwis and kumquats. While it is true that they are both fruits, the similarities between them end right about there. So, too, the similarities between Libya and Syria.

There are no significant parallels that can be extrapolated from the overthrow in Libya to the unrest and potential for overthrow in Syria.

Yes, each country was ruled by a thugocracy. And each country has been run by a despot who is representative of only a very small segment of the population. Bashar Assad of Syria is an Alawite while the majority of the country is Sunni, and Libya’s Muammar Gadhafi is from the tribe of Gadhaffiyah — one of the 140 tribes that compose Libya.

And that’s where the parallels end.

It’s the differences between the countries that are more glaring than their similarities. That’s what makes it almost ludicrous to even think about applying the lessons learned from Libya to the events that are still unfolding in Syria.

The first and most important difference between Libya and Syria is weaponry. The opposition in Syria has almost no weapons; the opposition in Libya is well armed. They are not well trained and their weapons are not of the highest caliber, but compared to the paltry supply the Syrians have, the Libyans boast impressive firepower.

The second and almost as important difference is military intelligence. The opposition in Libya benefited from the aid of British and French special forces and intelligence operatives and from intelligence gathering provided them by the United States, France and England. The opposition in Syria is on its own. In addition to having no weapons and training, they have no friends lending them military support or feeding them crucial intelligence.

While the world cheered on Libyan opposition forces, Syria’s opposition forces have few friends, no leverage and no power. They are cannon fodder for the Syrian military.

Col. Muammar Gadhafi was almost universally disdained — his rhetoric, his female bodyguards, his total disregard for human life, his active participation in acts of terror. Over the years, Gadhafi successfully offended and alienated so many people, not only in the West and but also in the Arabic world, that even Arabs wanted to oust him. He also considered himself to be an African rather than an Arab, and that also greatly upset his Arab-leader colleagues.

In the West there was a wall-to-wall coalition supporting the ousting of Gadhafi. That support spread to significant parts of the Arab leadership. Even the Arab League called for the fall of the Libyan dictator.

Assad, on the other hand, is a gentlemanly despot: educated, a physician, forced to obey his father’s orders and take up the mantle of thugocracy after the death of his brother. The beginnings of the uprising against Assad were almost totally ignored by the world media.

There has yet to be any orchestrated international protest or public outcry censoring or criticizing Assad. There are no Syrian groups in exile pushing for their freedom or lobbying for their cause on the airwaves. In contrast, there was an almost constant barrage of Libyans in exile begging for international assistance and keeping their cause alive in the media.

President Obama did just recently call for Assad to step down, but the United States still maintains diplomatic representation in Syria. The U.S. ambassador to Syria has not been recalled and neither have the ambassadors from most European countries, with the exception of Italy. And only a couple of Arab states followed Saudi Arabia’s lead when they yanked their ambassadors. The Arab League has just asked Syria to stop killing innocents, which is hardly an indictment of the heinous acts Assad is perpetrating and pales in comparison to the way in which they vilified Gadhafi.

The Arab League ousted Gadhafi and seated the Libyan opposition in his place.

The 140 different tribes in Libya are each fighting for autonomy. While there are family and tribal linkages in Syria, the greatest divisive force in that country is the religious divide. Sunnis constitute 74 percent, the overwhelming majority of the Syrian population; then come the Shiites at 12 percent; and then Assad and his fellow Alawites, a break-off from Shiia tradition, at 9 percent. Although Assad’s Alawite may be the minority religious tribe in Syria, they comprise a very significant and loyal part of the army.

There are only two viable ways for the Syrian revolt to succeed. The opposition needs either international intervention or for Sunni elements within the army to defect and join their cause. There are no other alternatives.

Unfortunately for the Syrian opposition, those are both long shots. Given the current international economic crunch, it is too risky for the West to take on another mission like the one they engaged in with Libya. Do not expect a no-fly zone in Syria like the one in Libya. And unless there is a serious incentive and worthwhile push, there will be no defections from the Syrian army.

Gadhafi has gone underground and may not turn up again. Assad remains in power, and he is not about to leave Damascus anytime soon. He is reaping the fruits of his and of his father’s brutal labor.

Micah D. Halpern is a columnist and a social and political commentator. His latest book is “Thugs: How History’s Most Notorious Despots Transformed the World through Terror, Tyranny, and Mass Murder” (Thomas Nelson).

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Back to School: Parashat Shoftim (Deuteronomy 16:18-21:9)

With a new school year upon us, I found the following story, “What Teachers Make,” revealing.

“The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life. One man, a CEO, decided to discuss the current problems with education. He argued, ‘What’s a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?’

“He reminded the other dinner guests what people say about teachers: ‘Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.’

“To stress his point, he said to another guest: ‘You’re a teacher, Susan. Be honest. What do you make?’ Susan, who had a reputation for honesty and frankness replied, ‘You want to know what I make? I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could. I make kids wonder. I make them question. I make them criticize. I make them apologize and mean it. I make them write. I make them read, read, read. I make them show all their work in math and perfect their final drafts in English. I make them understand that if you have the brains and follow your heart, you will succeed; and if someone ever tries to judge you by what you make, you must pay no attention because they just didn’t learn.’ Susan paused and then continued, ‘You want to know what I make? I make a difference. What do you make?’ ”

Susan, I’m sure, could make each of us wonder, “What difference do we want to make?”

An answer to this pressing question is found in this week’s Torah reading. The Torah declares, “You shall be wholehearted with Hashem, your God” (Deuteronomy 18:13). This statement has always been so essential to Judaism that Maimonides argued that it is an overriding principle and not a specific mitzvah, therefore he did not include it in his enumeration of the 613 mitzvot of the Torah. 

Whether Maimonides’ interpretation is correct or not, what is fascinating is the context in which this verse is found. This statement is part of the prohibition that a Jew may not use divination, read omens or frequent a sorcerer in order to find out what the future holds.

So what does “you shall be wholehearted with your God” have to do with prohibiting divination? The answer is a lesson for us and for our children.

The Talmud, in tractate Shabbat 156a, declares, “Celestial signs hold no sway over Israel.” The Talmud, however, wonders if astrologers really are able to tell the future. According to the Talmud it would appear that they indeed do have such powers. But do they have the final word? The answer is absolutely “no.”

If one leaves his destiny in the hands of someone such as a fortune-teller, the Torah understood that a person would achieve nothing in life. One will always have an excuse that he or she can use for all mistakes. “I was doomed from the outset,” someone could argue.

Being “wholehearted,” as the Torah commands, is the opposite of relying on the sorcerer, because when one is wholehearted he has achieved on his own. Outside forces aren’t the determiners. This is exactly what the Prophet Jeremiah wrote in the third chapter of Lamentations. At first he blames God for the destruction of the Holy Temple. He declares, “I am the man who has seen affliction by the rod of His wrath” (Lamentations 3:1). Who should we blame? It isn’t our fault but God’s wrath. But as he contemplates that charge, he begins to change his mind and says: “By the command of the Most High, neither good nor evil come” (Lamentations 3:38). And finally, Jeremiah concludes, “Let us search and examine our ways, and let us return to the Lord” (Lamentations 3:40).

What a lesson this is for all of us, but in particular for our children. We want them to use their own talents and not to give excuses if they fail. We want them to be able to rebound on their own and not to depend on any crutch that will only hinder their growth.

So, what should we tell our children as they begin a new school year? Perhaps something like this: “Be yourself, and achieve your best, but only achieve it ethically and morally. Never offer excuses if you don’t succeed, for that will never allow you to grow. Rather, know that we are proud of you, and if you try hard enough we know that you will achieve your goal.”

Back to School: Parashat Shoftim (Deuteronomy 16:18-21:9) Read More »

In praise of falsehood

What is it with people telling the truth all the time? I don’t mean under oath, or even in response to a question that has been posed to them; I mean when they just come out of the blue and dish out a nice, hefty portion of truth because they love you too much to lie to you.

For years, the first thing I heard from some of my favorite aunts upon greeting them was, “You look awful.”

They said this no matter how hard I had tried to fix myself up, or how good I thought I looked when I came through the door.

“I’m telling you the truth because I love you,” they added. “You’re too thin, you must be working too hard, you should eat more, wear some makeup, cut your hair or something.”

I was wearing makeup. I didn’t think I looked so bad.

“Well, you’re wrong. And anyone who tells you otherwise is lying to you. You really shouldn’t let your husband see you like this.”

How can you get mad at someone who’s telling you the truth for your own good? And besides, these ladies were older than I. Among Iranians, few transgressions are as grave as talking back to an older person, especially a family member. To say you disagree with them is bad enough, but there’s no way you can tell them to mind their own business and be able to hold your head up in the family afterward. So I tolerated the love talk for about a decade, then heeded the advice of my husband. He grew up in England, where he was taught not just respect, but also diplomacy.

“I appreciate your concern,” he suggested I tell these honest, loving people, “but what you tell me makes me feel bad.”

That might have worked for Diana. For me, it was a nonstarter.

“I’d rather you felt bad and fixed yourself up, than felt good and looked bad,” my loving elders said. 

That finally stopped when I became old enough that to look good, all I have to do is maintain a pulse. Nowadays, I feel pretty safe at “hello,” but it’s anyone’s guess what happens from then on. Truth telling, it seems, has become a national pastime, with all that reality garbage constantly on television, all those celebrities bearing their hearts out for Dr. Drew, and every middle-aged, unemployed man and woman signing up with some online university for a degree in marriage and family therapy, then graduating with honors and charging the world with their professional wisdom.

I had an hour of this last Saturday when I went to a Shabbat luncheon at a family member’s house. I arrived at 1:30 wearing heels and makeup and — tell me this isn’t making an effort — a red dress. It was a large gathering, and I didn’t know most of the guests, so I managed to get in a good three minutes without being told I was late or I looked awful or I had offended someone by failing to “convince” my kids to come with me, but then I got overly confident and made the mistake of approaching a cousin. She’s the effusive type and always full of compliments. She saw me and declared, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “Now this is a good color for you!”

In case you’re too self-confident to grasp the nuance, the implication there is that whatever else I’ve worn over my lifetime was not a good color. This same cousin had told me, a week after my older son’s bar mitzvah, that the dress I wore to the party made me look “dead.”

“And your hair looks good, too,” she now added. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t like it before.”

Before what? I’ve had the same hair since I was 22 and had it cut to within an inch of my scalp.

“I hope you don’t mind my telling you this. I don’t like to lie.”

Me neither. So I left the cousin and went outside into 100-degree heat, hoping to find shelter among people who didn’t love me and didn’t feel compelled to tell the truth. I had spent five minutes making small talk with a stranger before a woman I barely knew came up and asked, without the smallest bit of preface, “How do you rate your books?”

How do I rate them?

“I mean, what do you think of them?”

I think they’re terrible — badly written and pointless — and so do the publishers and critics and the buyers, of course. 

“I ask because my daughter read one of them and didn’t like it. I hope you don’t mind my being honest.”

Among Iranians, the polite response to such honesty is to thank the person and acknowledge their feelings. Anything else would be considered rude, tag you as a shrew and ruin your children’s chances at marriage.

OK, so maybe strangers’ truths aren’t any better than friends’ truths, I thought, and went back inside, sat down with my Orthodox cousin’s five kids, all under the age of 6, each brighter and more beautiful and charming than the rest. A few minutes later another cousin, a newly minted marriage and family therapist, joined us. We talked about how cute these children were, how quickly they grow up. I said something about missing my younger son who just moved out of the house to go to college. I thought that was rather innocuous, but it seems Antioch University disagrees. My cousin boiled with outrage.

“Let him go!” she yelled like Moses at the Pharaoh. “You’re castrating the child!”

Really? Castrating?

“That’s the trouble with Iranian men: They’re all castrated by their mothers.”

I looked around at the dozens of castrated men and all the castrating women in the room. I considered telling my cousin that I had studied all about castration in Psych 101 a thousand years ago at UCLA, and that there’s a slight difference between loving a child and wanting to own him, but that would have been rude of me; it would have hurt her feelings, meant that I was an ingrate and a shrew. It’s a “Catch-22” I think anyone in a caring, close-knit community has experienced and I, at least, have no idea how to solve it or where to find the right balance. I can’t blame people, because I think they mean well, so I’ve decided the fault lies with the truth itself. I therefore recommend the following prayer before and after each social gathering:

Dear God, give us this day our daily dose of denial. Keep us safe from love, truth and honesty. Lead us out of the light and into the darkness; let us remain ignorant of our failings, unpopularity and good colors. If possible, impose some minimal requirements for becoming a marriage and family therapist. And whatever you did with my hair this past Saturday … keep that up until further notice from my cousin.

In praise of falsehood Read More »

To my child on the way to college

This is the beginning of your life’s great adventure. At your bar/bat mitzvah, we spoke about you becoming an adult. But that wasn’t exactly true. The next Monday morning, you were back in middle school. This time, it’s for real. You’re leaving home, going away to school, beginning your life as an independent adult. It’s exhilarating and terrifying (for both of us)! So, just in case I forget to say this when we drop you off at the dorm, here are a few words of wisdom. Torah is our source of truth … even now.

1. In the beginning, God created heaven and earth. The earth was unformed and void … And God said, “Let there be light.” And there was light. … And God separated the light from the darkness. … It was evening and morning, a first day.

You won’t know that you are really independent until the day arrives when you run out of socks and underwear. In college, clean socks don’t magically materialize in your drawers like they did at home. On that fateful day, you will carry your bulging laundry bag down to the laundry room, together with a box of detergent and a pocketful of quarters. And there you will face a great decision: Do I follow the instructions and separate the lights from the darks, or throw it all into the washer at one time? This is not an insignificant dilemma: Do you abide by the wisdom of tradition, or blaze your own trail? No doubt, you will choose your own way … the road less traveled, and all that. You’ll throw it all into the washer. And for the rest of the semester, you’ll have pink underwear, murky brown T-shirts and pants shrunken a size too small. Listen to the word of Torah: Separate the light from the dark. Sometimes those older than you actually do know something.

2. God said: “Let there be a firmament in midst of the waters. And let the waters be gathered … that dry land may appear. …” It was evening and morning, a second day.

In college, people drink. A lot. It’s hard to find any social moment in college life without drinking. So be careful. I would tell you not to drink, ever. But I realize that’s not reasonable. At college, as in the rest of life, you need to develop judgment, discretion and the ability to say, “Enough.” So notice the way people drink. If they can’t seem to have a good time without alcohol, these aren’t people you want to be with. If friendship, conversation or intimacy depends upon alcohol, or other drugs, go find other friends. You’re better than that. Your soul is more valuable than that.

3. God said: “Let the earth sprout vegetation. … ” It was evening and morning, a third day.

God created fruits and vegetables. They’re food. Good food. So eat them. Every day. People in college think that Top Ramen, doughnuts and pizza are essential food groups. They think that beer provides a day’s vitamins. That’s no way to live. Eat reasonably, and you’ll find it easier to pay attention in class, to stay healthy and to feel well. Contrary to the conviction of every adolescent, you’re not invulnerable. So take care of your body. 

4. God said, “Let there be lights in the sky … to shine upon the earth. …” It was evening and morning, a fourth day.

Go outside. At least once each day. Take a walk; go for a run; breathe some fresh, non-air-conditioned air; look up at the stars; feel the peace of the woods. You’ll spend days on end in class, in the library, in a dorm room. Your eyes will only see cold florescent light. Go into the sunshine and connect with nature every day. Watch the sunset. Feel the wonder of the stars. The Chasidim of the Baal Shem Tov’s circle went out to the forests to listen for the voice of God. Try that. Your soul needs that renewal. 

5. God said, “Let the earth bring forth swarms of living creatures. …” It was evening and morning, a fifth day.

College is the most intense social experience you’ll ever have. At college, you will meet more people from more places and more cultures, backgrounds and faiths than at any other time in your life. Far more important than what you’ll be taught in classes is what you’ll learn from meeting people of all kinds — learning their ways, understanding their perspectives, listening to their stories. Open yourself to new friends. Don’t sit with the same people at dinner every night. Don’t sit next to the same people in class. Show a little chutzpah, walk up and begin a conversation with someone new each day. Remember, they’re just as strange to this college life as you are, and just as eager to meet new people.

That goes for professors, too. Whatever class you’re taking, go meet the professor in his or her office. Here’s a secret: Professors are tired of students who only ask about a grade or a test or an assignment. Go see your professors, introduce yourself and ask: How did you get into anthropology? Or chemistry? Or psychology? What is it that grabbed you about this discipline? Then sit and listen and enjoy. Every professor has a story. Every professor is just waiting for a student to ask. And every professor was driven to his or her discipline by deep passion. More than anything, each wants to share that passion. Go ask.

6. God said, “Let us make man in our image.” And it was evening and morning, a sixth day.

College life is intensely self-absorbed. It’s about your education, your experience, your growth. But the deeper truth is that you won’t learn or experience or grow so long as you’re focused only on yourself. College is about taking — taking classes, gaining knowledge, grasping wisdom. But the truth is that knowledge and wisdom are gained in giving, not taking. So give. Give of yourself. Go down to the local elementary school and volunteer to serve as a classroom assistant. Go down to the community garden and pick up a shovel. Go to the local hospital and find out what you can do to help and heal. Give of yourself, act selflessly, and you will find the best parts of yourself … your worth, your capacity to shape the world, your sense of purpose. There is no greater joy than that. And no more important form of education.

7.
And on the seventh day, God rested.

Make Shabbat. Make one day a week special. All week, you’ll be working hard to develop your mind. Devote one day a week to your soul. Whatever makes you feel most authentic, most connected, most alive … devote one day a week to that. In college, you’re always being evaluated and measured. One day a week, remember that you’re more than your classes, more than your next exam, more than your GPA or your GRE. Celebrate the gifts of life. And if you find yourself at a synagogue, wrap yourself in the tallit we gave you on your bar/bat mitzvah, sing the prayers, feel the presence of God, and feel our presence and our love. We are proud that you’ve taken this step into the adventure of life. We’re with you, even far away.

To my child on the way to college Read More »

‘We-come-to-you’ Judaism

The American Jewish community spends a fortune every year trying to keep Jews connected to their Judaism. Much of that money goes to what I call “Please-Come-Here” Judaism: Jews are invited to attend special Jewish activities in the hope that this will entice them to come and stay “under the Jewish tent.”

Many of those outreach efforts are smart and innovative. Still, philanthropists often wonder: Why are so many Jews still leaving the tent, and why are assimilation and intermarriage still so rampant?

That sentiment has a lot to do with why I’ve accepted the position of president of TRIBE Media Corp. and The Jewish Journal — rather than going back into the advertising world to sell potato chips and luxury cars.

You see, the reason I’ve decided to partner with my friend Rob Eshman, editor-in-chief and publisher of TRIBE/Jewish Journal, and the great staff here, is because I believe the Jewish community newspaper is one of the most powerful tools to keep Jews connected to their people and their Judaism.

Why? For one thing, because it doesn’t look and smell like blatant outreach. The Journal’s mission is journalism — to cover the Jewish world, all of it, really well. This is the best form of outreach: Judaism with nothing to hide.

No one else in Los Angeles does what we do, which is to bring you, week in and week out, a vibrant, open-minded and multifaceted Jewish experience.

Second, speaking of outreach, we have another advantage: We don’t ask you to come to us — we come to you, wherever you are. 

We come to your kitchens, living rooms, bedrooms, cafes, synagogues, offices, Shabbat tables, markets and, of course, your computer screens and, very soon, your iPads.

We connect Jews to Judaism and to one another, so that the grandmother who lives alone in Tarzana can read Rabbi Muskin’s thoughts on the week’s parasha; the hipster in Los Feliz who never goes to shul can catch up on new trends in Jewish music and art; the Jews of Pico-Robertson can learn what’s going on in the non-Orthodox world; and the JewBu in West Hollywood can find out about the revival of ancient Jewish meditation.

How else would a Chabad rabbi read an article from a Conservative rabbi to his ­congregation, if not for the fact that he saw it in The Jewish Journal?

Our power is in our diversity, which is the ethos of the new generation. This generation finds meaning in the freedom to choose. We give them plenty of choice.

It’s not a criticism to say that traditional outreach groups have a limited menu; they’re simply not geared to be everything to everyone.

The Journal, on the other hand, aims to offer just that: everything to everyone. Because we cover the whole Jewish experience, we complement and open doors for other outreach efforts. And we do it not by “selling” Judaism, but by challenging, reporting, debating, exploring, inspiring, questioning, enlightening and, ultimately, inviting Jews to enter the Jewish tent on their own terms.

Our biggest challenge is to increase our reach. There are about 600,000 Jews living in the greater Los Angeles area — and we distribute only 50,000 papers a week. As someone whose mission in life is to spread Jewish values to Jews and to the world, it pains me that we’re not reaching more people. 

The business has changed in recent years, to the point that it’s virtually impossible to sell enough ads to expand our reach and put out the kind of thick, thriving publication we dream of. Because The Journal is a nonprofit — it’s distributed for free, or for a small subscription cost — we depend on help from charitable contributions in order to really thrive.

To date, though, we’ve been a little shy in asking for donations. Maybe that’s why they recruited me — because I’m not shy. I believe in the immense value of The Journal to our community, and that a donation to the paper is one of the best investments in our Jewish future.

So, yes, I’m going to go out on a limb and ask you, our readers, to make a minimum annual contribution of $18 to your community paper.

But wait, that’s not all: If you donate $100 or more, I will send you a signed copy of my new book, “Don’t Get Me Started,” a collection of my favorite Jewish Journal columns on Israel and the Jewish world, with an introduction by Rabbi David Wolpe. Donate now, and you’ll get the book just in time for Rosh Hashanah.

Your money will go a long way. For one, it will help us increase our reach among the 600,000 Jews living in our community — and that’s very good for the Jews.

This is your newspaper. We want you to feel like stakeholders, even when you’re upset by something you read.

Look, there’s plenty of stuff I see in The Journal that isn’t to my taste — and that’s a good thing! This is not the Pico-Robertson Suissa Journal; it’s the Los Angeles Jewish Journal.

We call it “We-Come-to-You” Judaism, and when we say you, we mean all of you. Now we come to you for a contribution, so we can reach more of you — and I have no doubt you will answer the call, if only to welcome me into my new job.

Please send your tax-deductible contributions to: The Jewish Journal, 3580 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 1510, Los Angeles, CA 90010. Include your return address or click here to donate online.  And thank you!

Or click here now and enter your zip code to subscribe and support us.

‘We-come-to-you’ Judaism Read More »

Face to face

I asked Aatekah Ahhmad Mir, a journalist from Lahore, Pakistan, and Emal Naweed Haidary, a journalist from Kabul, Afghanistan, what sights they wanted to see while in Los Angeles.

I fully expected them to ask to go to Disneyland, Universal Studios … Venice Beach.

“We want to see Daniel Pearl’s grave,” Mir said. “Is that OK?”

Every year since 2003, The Jewish Journal has hosted two Daniel Pearl Fellows for at least a week. They are all young, ambitious journalists who come from the Middle East, North Africa and South Asia, regions where freedom of the press is not a given and where Pearl, an Encino native and Wall Street Journal correspondent, lived and reported from before his kidnap and murder in Pakistan in 2002.

Mir, 30, has an advanced degree from the London School of Economics and is an editor at The Express Tribune, a partner of the International Herald Tribune. She could be mistaken for a young Christiane Amanpour, and she has a relentless curiosity and an explosive laugh. Haidary is a reporter for the Bokhdi News Agency and is the first ever Pearl Fellow from Afghanistan. He is quiet, serious and has the look of a man more along in years. That’s understandable: Born in 1980, he has never known a single year of his life without war.

The fellows come to America to work for six months at a mainstream newspaper like The Wall Street Journal or the Los Angeles Times, then, as a requirement of their fellowship, they spend one week at The Jewish Journal, or, as we like to tell them, “a real newspaper.”

The idea, according to Daniel’s parents, Judea and Ruth Pearl, is to expose journalists whose native media is often hostile to, or ignorant of Jews, to the “real” Jewish community.

As in years past, it’s an understatement to say we learned as much from these two fellows as they did from us. It’s clear to us all that the veil of ignorance and misunderstanding that many have worked to lift since 9/11 is still in place — both here and in their homelands.

“People don’t even know where Pakistan is,” Mir said when we asked her what surprised her most about Americans. “They think it’s in the Middle East.”

“If I were an American,” Haidary added, “I’d want to know where all my money is going.”

And, they reported, in their countries, even after we’ve spent billions in aid and lost thousands of American lives, America is still scorned, viewed with suspicion, reviled.

To most Pakistanis, America is represented through accounts of military actions and drone strikes, Mir said. The imams and madrassahs still teach hatred of the United States, and the Pakistani media fail to give balance to all that propaganda. America doesn’t help itself either: it allows the faltering and corrupt Pakistani government to take credit for aid projects, including such achievements as new schools funded by American taxpayers.

In Afghanistan, Haidary said the perception is not much better.

Immediately following the American invasion of his country, there was a period of calm.

“The Taliban disappeared from the cities,” he said. “But the Americans never stopped to ask, ‘Where did they go?’ ”

Now the Taliban has returned to Afghanistan’s rural areas and made life in the cities even more unpredictable than before.

“Before, I knew which neighborhoods were safe,” Haidary said. “Now, the suicide bomber can be walking right beside me.”

He is engaged to be married, but hasn’t set a date. “It is difficult to know when you go to work in the morning if you’ll be back at night,” he said.

Afghanis see Americans almost solely as soldiers, barking at them to stop or stay away. He said President Barack Obama’s surge of 30,000 troops and their high-tech weapons have only exacerbated the problem.

“He sent 30,000 more targets,” Haidary said. “Why didn’t he send 30,000 engineers and architects? America is trying to solve 14th century conflicts with 21st century technology.”

“You need people-to-people contact,” Mir said. “I know this is strange to say as a Daniel Pearl Fellow, but Americans need to visit Pakistan as tourists. You need better PR.” If people see that money coming from the United States is being used to enhance their quality of life, and not just for military purposes, the perception of America will change, she said.

Mir came to America having been told that people here hate Muslims — especially Jews, who, according to the Pakistani press, control American politics and media. She found that even though many American Muslims also believe such hatred exists, in fact the Americans she met were warm, open, accepting.

At the end of her visit, Mir arranged to go to Daniel Pearl’s grave. Before her visit, she had done some research and learned that Jews leave stones at cemeteries, not flowers. She arrived at Mount Sinai Memorial Park in Hollywood Hills after closing, the day before she was to leave for home. But the cemetery staff, after hearing of her dilemma via the intercom and contacting their director, opened the gates and escorted her to the gravesite. 

On the side of a hill overlooking the Valley, Mir stood over the gray marble marker. She read the inscription:

In one of the stars
He is still living
In one of them
He is still laughing
Perhaps in foreign places
He is still lighting the path of our world.

Mir knelt down and placed a stone on the marble. Then she returned to Pakistan.

Face to face Read More »

What makes a skateboard kosher? [VIDEO]

In high school, Avi Greenberg sometimes spent eight hours a day skateboarding. He kept a board in his school locker, and he wore through them quickly, sometimes as many as five in a month.

Now 33, married and with a 4-month-old daughter, Greenberg still lives in Pico-Robertson, where he grew up, and he still doesn’t leave home without his skateboard.

“I always knew I wasn’t going to be the next Tony Hawk,” he said. “I just love skating.”

Greenberg has a day job helping to design and build TV stations, but he and Hawk, the legendary vertical skateboarder, do have something in common: their own skateboard companies. Hawk co-founded Birdhouse Skateboards in 1992; Greenberg co-founded Kosher Skateboards.

What, exactly, makes a skateboard kosher?

“They’re just solid boards,” said Aryeh Kraus, the company’s sole pro rider. “You want a board that feels strong and that’s not gonna get soggy.”

The feel of the board was important to Greenberg and co-founder Clayton Graul, who have been working together on this project for the last six years.

Story continues after the jump.

Aryeh Kraus, seen in a 2008 video on youTube.

This year, using $5,000 in start-up capital, the two commissioned a manufacturer in Oceanside, Calif., to produce a small run of just 153 boards.

They’re not simple decks though: Like most high-quality boards, Kosher Skateboards are made from seven layers of maple, glued together.

Graul isn’t Jewish (Greenberg: “everybody’s got the honorary Jew in their crew”), but he lives around Melrose and Fairfax, and he channels the Hebrews’ symbols into the graphic designs of Kosher Skateboards’ products.

Of the company’s first three deck designs, the Rangillac Deck — a New York Rangers logo flanked by the silver laurels of a Cadillac hood ornament — looks like it might have the most crossover appeal to those who’ve only ridden trayf skateboards.

There’s an Israel Deck and a Kosherman Deck, and a Dreidel Deck is in the works. All are available online and at two brick-and-mortar shops in the Los Angeles area.

But Greenberg and Graul are spreading the word by posting hundreds of stickers around the city, and by giving out hundreds more.

“Every time I see a kid with a yarmulke and a skateboard, I just drop a bunch of stickers on him,” Greenberg said. “It seems to be working out.”

What makes a skateboard kosher? [VIDEO] Read More »