Not a glutton for punishment, but I went back to the performance tonight. For two reasons: One, I felt bad sending her Grandmother alone, and two, the kid is kind of small, and I felt she needed her mother there. I also was slightly curious what would happen on night two. So I really went for all of you.
We got there a little late, but still before it started. On this night there were a few more announcements, and a few more thank yous. One thank you was to "Naomi, who played drums. Is she here? Well, I hope she gets here before her choir goes on!" (I saw her a few minutes later)
The auditorium was also much emptier, which you wouldn't have known from the volume. Tonight she didn't bother to tell the kids to stay in the back, she said "Do not sit in the aisles, there are empty seats, sit there!. I guess this happens a lot. One night is not enough, but two nights don't fill up.
I decided, both for me and for the little twerpazoid who went to sleep after midnight last night, that we would leave, with the little dancer, after she went on. I knew, having been there the night before that I was only committing to about forty minutes.
Whatever happened last night, whatever weird and crazy things, nothing could come close to what happened tonight.
It was the second scene. Two girls were singing "Forever One," in front of the curtain. all of a sudden a little boy, young enough to still have a ponytail, but old enough to walk well and determinedly, trooped up the side steps toddled his way across the stage to an open mike, and was about to take it when the organizer jumped up and pulled him off the stage. I thought for a minute that maybe it was her kid, until I saw her standing, holding him looking around, and then returned him laughingly to his mother.
Somehow the whole thing seemed reminiscent of chickens on the packed trains in Bangladesh.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Eye of the Tiger Mother
In a recent post, FBB detailed a somewhat chaotic scene at the security line at Miami International Airport, involving an Asian woman who was unable to understand the security agents' directions, and the extra attention she received.
Upon reflection, I believe that this situation was less about a communication problem, and more of a reaction to Amy Chua's controversial new book, "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother." After all, the last thing we need is to have some Asian woman hijacking a plane and forcing everyone to practice the cello for three hours before being released.
In a nutshell, Chua's book states that the "success" of Chinese children is due primarily to their mothers, and their strict, authoritarian child-rearing style. She contrasts this with the indulgent, permissive Western parents, whose inadequate parenting method explains their offspring's relative lack of "success."
Without getting into the specifics of the relative merits - or lack thereof - of the different parenting styles, I'd like to look at the issue from another perspective.
A book like this one would have hardly gained any attention just a few years ago. The reason why it resonates with people now is that we've generally bought into the "Chinese hype" with which we're currently being inundated.
The Chinese economy is growing at a feverish pace, to the point where they've now become the world's 2nd largest economy, after the United States. The Chinese also own an increasing proportion of the U.S.'s foreign debt, giving rise to the fear that they will eventually "own the United States."
This is not the first time we've been faced with this type of unnecessary fear and hand-wringing. As an example, look at Japan, from whom the Chinese recently took the #2 world economy ranking. Back in the 1980s and early 1990s, people in this country were certain that the Japanese were going to take over the world, the U.S. included. I can recall a certain business school professor of mine who was such a Japophile that he was convinced that the entire U.S. economic system was destined for collapse unless we adopted Japanese corporate methods. One decade-long Japanese recession later, and this professor's warnings seem a bit less prescient. In fact, as some of you might know, for the past two years, I've been working for a large Japanese company. As I've grown accustomed to their ways, I've found myself asking the same question I asked when I traveled to Russia a few years ago: "We were actually afraid of these people?!"
While there's certainly some admirable organizational and management skills in their culture, the level of groupthink and aversion to diverging from the almighty "process" is so strong and pervasive that it is difficult for most companies to address challenges by changing course. I suspect that the same is true for Chinese companies. After all, communist societies aren't exactly renowned for their promotion of individuality.
In my opinion, the larger issue here is that economically and culturally, many Americans seem to harbor a deeply-seated inferiority complex. I'm not sure why this is the case. Perhaps it's because our leadership is too busy being politically correct, instead of rallying us all around a patriotic American cause. In other words, this generation needs its Ronald Reagan.
The lack of strong leadership has also manifested itself in our popular culture. Back in the 1980s, if someone was giving us a hard time, we'd send Sylvester Stallone or Arnold Schwarzenegger in with a bunch of guns and grenades, and they'd set things right. Or, Chuck Norris would show up, execute a couple of flying kicks, bite the head off a rat, and America's place in the world would be secure. Nowadays, you're more likely to get some sensitive "hero" driving around in a Prius, taking on an enemy with an impossibly vague accent.
Clearly, the Chinese have accomplished a great deal, and they're poised to remain a major factor in the global economic landscape for a long time. (I do wonder whether or not they will ultimately be tripped up by their extremely low birth rates, a factor which has proven to be the downfall of many "developed" nations). I'll let you decide whether or not you want to lose any sleep over it, or if you want to adopt any of the "tiger mother's" child-rearing methods.
I'll conclude with a riddle:
Q: What do you say to a former Chinese child prodigy?
A: "Could I get that with brown rice instead of white rice?"
Upon reflection, I believe that this situation was less about a communication problem, and more of a reaction to Amy Chua's controversial new book, "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother." After all, the last thing we need is to have some Asian woman hijacking a plane and forcing everyone to practice the cello for three hours before being released.
In a nutshell, Chua's book states that the "success" of Chinese children is due primarily to their mothers, and their strict, authoritarian child-rearing style. She contrasts this with the indulgent, permissive Western parents, whose inadequate parenting method explains their offspring's relative lack of "success."
Without getting into the specifics of the relative merits - or lack thereof - of the different parenting styles, I'd like to look at the issue from another perspective.
A book like this one would have hardly gained any attention just a few years ago. The reason why it resonates with people now is that we've generally bought into the "Chinese hype" with which we're currently being inundated.
The Chinese economy is growing at a feverish pace, to the point where they've now become the world's 2nd largest economy, after the United States. The Chinese also own an increasing proportion of the U.S.'s foreign debt, giving rise to the fear that they will eventually "own the United States."
This is not the first time we've been faced with this type of unnecessary fear and hand-wringing. As an example, look at Japan, from whom the Chinese recently took the #2 world economy ranking. Back in the 1980s and early 1990s, people in this country were certain that the Japanese were going to take over the world, the U.S. included. I can recall a certain business school professor of mine who was such a Japophile that he was convinced that the entire U.S. economic system was destined for collapse unless we adopted Japanese corporate methods. One decade-long Japanese recession later, and this professor's warnings seem a bit less prescient. In fact, as some of you might know, for the past two years, I've been working for a large Japanese company. As I've grown accustomed to their ways, I've found myself asking the same question I asked when I traveled to Russia a few years ago: "We were actually afraid of these people?!"
While there's certainly some admirable organizational and management skills in their culture, the level of groupthink and aversion to diverging from the almighty "process" is so strong and pervasive that it is difficult for most companies to address challenges by changing course. I suspect that the same is true for Chinese companies. After all, communist societies aren't exactly renowned for their promotion of individuality.
In my opinion, the larger issue here is that economically and culturally, many Americans seem to harbor a deeply-seated inferiority complex. I'm not sure why this is the case. Perhaps it's because our leadership is too busy being politically correct, instead of rallying us all around a patriotic American cause. In other words, this generation needs its Ronald Reagan.
The lack of strong leadership has also manifested itself in our popular culture. Back in the 1980s, if someone was giving us a hard time, we'd send Sylvester Stallone or Arnold Schwarzenegger in with a bunch of guns and grenades, and they'd set things right. Or, Chuck Norris would show up, execute a couple of flying kicks, bite the head off a rat, and America's place in the world would be secure. Nowadays, you're more likely to get some sensitive "hero" driving around in a Prius, taking on an enemy with an impossibly vague accent.
Clearly, the Chinese have accomplished a great deal, and they're poised to remain a major factor in the global economic landscape for a long time. (I do wonder whether or not they will ultimately be tripped up by their extremely low birth rates, a factor which has proven to be the downfall of many "developed" nations). I'll let you decide whether or not you want to lose any sleep over it, or if you want to adopt any of the "tiger mother's" child-rearing methods.
I'll conclude with a riddle:
Q: What do you say to a former Chinese child prodigy?
A: "Could I get that with brown rice instead of white rice?"
A Night at the Theater?
What should have been the first clue? If I knew, would it have changed anything? Not likely. As a parent, I was there, and there for the long haul.
My seven year old daughter was in a performance that is organized by a woman who recruits thirteen year olds to run choirs and dances, that showcase 7-12 year olds. Apparently, this is a fundraiser, but no one seemed to know who the funds were for, and I made the check for the tickets out to cash. Hmmm. That's the system, your kid is in the performance, and you pay for the ticket to come watch the show.
For the past three months she's had practice every Sunday for an hour and a half, and this past Wednesday a dress rehearsal. We were all very excited, and were anticipating a good time, and a good show.
The performance itself was very cute and very sweet, the show, for me, was everything that surrounded it.
It's all about what you're used to, and what your expectations are. I was neither used to any of this, nor did I expect it, though I should have. Honestly, so much of it was beyond what I was used to, I sat there boggled for most of the night. I expected the show to start late, it did, but not as late as I thought. That was probably the only "good surprise" of the evening. The organizer made a very quick introduction, noting that the kids were from 17 different schools, and how nice it was that they all worked together, and they impressed upon them that they should talk to each other if they meet out in the world. That really was nice. Unfortunately the audience did not have that same feeling of caring for others and strangers. The noise level in the theater remained CONSTANT throughout the various scenes (it wasn't a play, just a little narration followed by either a choir, a choir/dance mix/ or just a dance), except for the few times they asked for quiet. People did not whisper, people were talking across rows to other audience members, and people were acting as if they were sitting and watching a movie with friends in their living rooms. It was LOUD.
I guess I should have realized the kind of "Heimishe" night I was in for, when the performance started with a cute song and dance, followed immediately by the organizer announcing "don't worry if you missed that, we're going to do it again later, just one mother has to leave so we just did it now to accommodate her." That was really really really nice. Apparently, veterans of these shows know that if your kid is in it at the end, you don't come right at the beginning. I guess it's really nice to do that switcheroo, but it sort of alerted me to what the mood was going to be.
Maybe it was that kind of "yeah whatever" attitude that had women running up the side steps to backstage to hug the organizer in the middle of the performance. Maybe that's why thirty seconds after she announced that the kids in the performance who were not onstage should stay in a specially designated room that had a video hookup of the stage, about fifty kids came to sit on their mothers' laps. And when she announced no food, I glanced at the people in the row in front of me who were drinking. Not from cans, or straws, no, they had a huge bottle of apple juice and were pouring it into paper cups. Next came the brownies, and other goodies, I was waiting for them to whip out the candles and complete the Melave Malke!
Perhaps some women need to be taught, that when attending the theater, even if you are still wearing your Shabbos clothes, you need to change to a flatter hat. Carmen Miranda would have been proud.
Why in a performance with no scenery and no props did it take three minutes before each scene started?
I had to laugh when towards the very end she announced "OK, we're almost ready for the finale, any kids who are in the theater please come to the room we have designated," HALF THE PLACE GOT UP AND STREAMED OUT!!! She chuckled and said "so that's where you all are!"
Hello? No one noticed that almost 400 hundred kids weren't where they were supposed to be?
Then came the finale. The never practiced finale in which she was directing and maneuvering all the kids, and that's when I got nervous. My seven year old is on the small side (remember the laundry room?), and there were tons of kids on that stage in no discernible order. I got up to go to the backstage area, not wanting her to G-d forbid get crushed, and stopped first in the "designated room." It was the cafeteria, with tables and benches and a huge screen with the finale visible. There were about ten kids in the room. One of them was my little one. I asked her why she didn't go onstage and she responded "There was too much traffic."
Well, I collected her at that point and left. I have to take her back tonight, but this time she's not staying (the two hours) past her scene. She's coming home and going to bed. She had a great time, and it was great to see her perform, will we do it next year?
I guess we'll see.
My seven year old daughter was in a performance that is organized by a woman who recruits thirteen year olds to run choirs and dances, that showcase 7-12 year olds. Apparently, this is a fundraiser, but no one seemed to know who the funds were for, and I made the check for the tickets out to cash. Hmmm. That's the system, your kid is in the performance, and you pay for the ticket to come watch the show.
For the past three months she's had practice every Sunday for an hour and a half, and this past Wednesday a dress rehearsal. We were all very excited, and were anticipating a good time, and a good show.
The performance itself was very cute and very sweet, the show, for me, was everything that surrounded it.
It's all about what you're used to, and what your expectations are. I was neither used to any of this, nor did I expect it, though I should have. Honestly, so much of it was beyond what I was used to, I sat there boggled for most of the night. I expected the show to start late, it did, but not as late as I thought. That was probably the only "good surprise" of the evening. The organizer made a very quick introduction, noting that the kids were from 17 different schools, and how nice it was that they all worked together, and they impressed upon them that they should talk to each other if they meet out in the world. That really was nice. Unfortunately the audience did not have that same feeling of caring for others and strangers. The noise level in the theater remained CONSTANT throughout the various scenes (it wasn't a play, just a little narration followed by either a choir, a choir/dance mix/ or just a dance), except for the few times they asked for quiet. People did not whisper, people were talking across rows to other audience members, and people were acting as if they were sitting and watching a movie with friends in their living rooms. It was LOUD.
I guess I should have realized the kind of "Heimishe" night I was in for, when the performance started with a cute song and dance, followed immediately by the organizer announcing "don't worry if you missed that, we're going to do it again later, just one mother has to leave so we just did it now to accommodate her." That was really really really nice. Apparently, veterans of these shows know that if your kid is in it at the end, you don't come right at the beginning. I guess it's really nice to do that switcheroo, but it sort of alerted me to what the mood was going to be.
Maybe it was that kind of "yeah whatever" attitude that had women running up the side steps to backstage to hug the organizer in the middle of the performance. Maybe that's why thirty seconds after she announced that the kids in the performance who were not onstage should stay in a specially designated room that had a video hookup of the stage, about fifty kids came to sit on their mothers' laps. And when she announced no food, I glanced at the people in the row in front of me who were drinking. Not from cans, or straws, no, they had a huge bottle of apple juice and were pouring it into paper cups. Next came the brownies, and other goodies, I was waiting for them to whip out the candles and complete the Melave Malke!
Perhaps some women need to be taught, that when attending the theater, even if you are still wearing your Shabbos clothes, you need to change to a flatter hat. Carmen Miranda would have been proud.
Why in a performance with no scenery and no props did it take three minutes before each scene started?
I had to laugh when towards the very end she announced "OK, we're almost ready for the finale, any kids who are in the theater please come to the room we have designated," HALF THE PLACE GOT UP AND STREAMED OUT!!! She chuckled and said "so that's where you all are!"
Hello? No one noticed that almost 400 hundred kids weren't where they were supposed to be?
Then came the finale. The never practiced finale in which she was directing and maneuvering all the kids, and that's when I got nervous. My seven year old is on the small side (remember the laundry room?), and there were tons of kids on that stage in no discernible order. I got up to go to the backstage area, not wanting her to G-d forbid get crushed, and stopped first in the "designated room." It was the cafeteria, with tables and benches and a huge screen with the finale visible. There were about ten kids in the room. One of them was my little one. I asked her why she didn't go onstage and she responded "There was too much traffic."
Well, I collected her at that point and left. I have to take her back tonight, but this time she's not staying (the two hours) past her scene. She's coming home and going to bed. She had a great time, and it was great to see her perform, will we do it next year?
I guess we'll see.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
More to Life Than Pizza
There's a story in the news today about a pizza woman who saved the life of her customer, because the customer, deviating from a three year stretch of DAILY thin crust pepperoni pizza deliveries, had not ordered any for a few days. The pizza delivery woman got nervous, and went to the house. When there was no response she called the police who entered the home and found the 82 year old peperoni lover on the floor. She had fallen three days before and could not get to the phone.
There are potentially a lot of humorous elements to take out of this story, but I am struck by one very troubling thing.
The only person in the world who seemed to worry about not hearing from this 82 year old woman for three days, was her pizza deliverer.
Even if she had no children, how sad to live a life where three days go by and no one else notices. She obviously wasn't a woman who traveled, since she ordered this pizza everyday for three years straight. So where were her friends, siblings, nieces or nephews, NEIGHBORS? I get that Tennessee can be very rural, but Memphis?
It sounds so sad to me.
There are potentially a lot of humorous elements to take out of this story, but I am struck by one very troubling thing.
The only person in the world who seemed to worry about not hearing from this 82 year old woman for three days, was her pizza deliverer.
Even if she had no children, how sad to live a life where three days go by and no one else notices. She obviously wasn't a woman who traveled, since she ordered this pizza everyday for three years straight. So where were her friends, siblings, nieces or nephews, NEIGHBORS? I get that Tennessee can be very rural, but Memphis?
It sounds so sad to me.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
A Modern Disability
This morning I was cutting oranges for one of the kids to take to school. I cut some in quarters and some in slices, and she'll tell me tonight which way she likes it better. I often just "pre-peel" them by slicing off a round top, and then scoring the peel in sections down the sides, and then the kids eat it like a normal orange in wedges. Somehow, oranges taste different in these different forms, or so I am told.
In the course of the cutting, I, as I often do, sliced my finger. Specifically, my thumb. No big deal, a usual occurrence. My hands are so lined and creased I hardly notice the few extra marks I add each year. So I got a band-aid, placed it around the tip of my thumb and moved on with my day. Often a cut will hurt for a few minutes, or an hour or two, though this one hardly hurt at all, but there's a different problem....
Texting is taking forever because the band-aid is in the way, and I keep hitting the wrong keys!
Who'da thunk it?
In the course of the cutting, I, as I often do, sliced my finger. Specifically, my thumb. No big deal, a usual occurrence. My hands are so lined and creased I hardly notice the few extra marks I add each year. So I got a band-aid, placed it around the tip of my thumb and moved on with my day. Often a cut will hurt for a few minutes, or an hour or two, though this one hardly hurt at all, but there's a different problem....
Texting is taking forever because the band-aid is in the way, and I keep hitting the wrong keys!
Who'da thunk it?
Friday, February 18, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
I Sure Feel Safer
At the end of our lovely time in Miami, we obviously needed to go to the airport and make our way through the joy that has become airport security. The joke that that is .
Being that we had the ultimate weapon, a sleeping baby (well he did smell a little, luckily it was under three ounces or we'd have had to take it off him and bag it in quart size ziplock- what a boon for the plastic companies. The ugly sister of bags, the wallflower size, suddenly the belle of the ball, a bag that sells itself!) he needed to be woken up, removed from his car seat, which needed to be placed through the x- ray machine along with his stroller. (he did not go through the screener, I carried him through the metal detector)
After my carry-on, purse, shoes, car seat and stroller came out I noticed a TSA guy sticking his head through the little tunnel that all this stuff had just come through. I got a little nervous as I noticed that the sunscreen that had mistakenly been left in the bottom of the stroller fell off the belt. The belt was now stopped with half of Mbb's stuff out of the tunnel, and some waiting just a little further in. I gulped, then I heard the TSA guy say to the female agent watching the screen "did you see a boarding pass? I think it went through here." Now, I knew it wasn't either of our boarding passes he was looking for, so I quickly picked up the Water Babies, and moved on to opening the stroller.
MBB was just standing there waiting for his bag to come out. At this point I had my shoes on, the stroller open and the boy strapped back in his seat. The belt was stopped, we thought because TSA guy stuck his head in there, but we were wrong.
"If ya move your stuff off the belt, and pick up the bins I can send the rest through," snarled Female TSA Agent.
Like it was our fault. Like WE stopped the belt. Like we worked for the TSA, and needed to move the white bins off the belt. No, no and no.
BECAUSE IF WE WORKED FOR THE TSA WE WOULD NOT HAVE MOVED THE SIXTY FIVE YEAR OLD ASIAN WOMAN TO THE SIDE FOR A FULL MANUAL PAT DOWN BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T UNDERSTAND THE DIRECTIONS WHEN SHE WAS PUT IN THE FULL BODY SCREENER AND SHE "MOVED TOO MUCH"!! (By the way, who sees those images? because they don't show up on the screen outside -I admit, I was looking-I was very curious).
We can all rest easy, knowing that a banned substance went through, but a woman who looked nothing but confused got the extra special security check.
Being that we had the ultimate weapon, a sleeping baby (well he did smell a little, luckily it was under three ounces or we'd have had to take it off him and bag it in quart size ziplock- what a boon for the plastic companies. The ugly sister of bags, the wallflower size, suddenly the belle of the ball, a bag that sells itself!) he needed to be woken up, removed from his car seat, which needed to be placed through the x- ray machine along with his stroller. (he did not go through the screener, I carried him through the metal detector)
After my carry-on, purse, shoes, car seat and stroller came out I noticed a TSA guy sticking his head through the little tunnel that all this stuff had just come through. I got a little nervous as I noticed that the sunscreen that had mistakenly been left in the bottom of the stroller fell off the belt. The belt was now stopped with half of Mbb's stuff out of the tunnel, and some waiting just a little further in. I gulped, then I heard the TSA guy say to the female agent watching the screen "did you see a boarding pass? I think it went through here." Now, I knew it wasn't either of our boarding passes he was looking for, so I quickly picked up the Water Babies, and moved on to opening the stroller.
MBB was just standing there waiting for his bag to come out. At this point I had my shoes on, the stroller open and the boy strapped back in his seat. The belt was stopped, we thought because TSA guy stuck his head in there, but we were wrong.
"If ya move your stuff off the belt, and pick up the bins I can send the rest through," snarled Female TSA Agent.
Like it was our fault. Like WE stopped the belt. Like we worked for the TSA, and needed to move the white bins off the belt. No, no and no.
BECAUSE IF WE WORKED FOR THE TSA WE WOULD NOT HAVE MOVED THE SIXTY FIVE YEAR OLD ASIAN WOMAN TO THE SIDE FOR A FULL MANUAL PAT DOWN BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T UNDERSTAND THE DIRECTIONS WHEN SHE WAS PUT IN THE FULL BODY SCREENER AND SHE "MOVED TOO MUCH"!! (By the way, who sees those images? because they don't show up on the screen outside -I admit, I was looking-I was very curious).
We can all rest easy, knowing that a banned substance went through, but a woman who looked nothing but confused got the extra special security check.
Monday, February 14, 2011
More Travels
After a lovely Shabbos, albeit cool and rainy, we checked in with the kiddies left behind, and got ready to go visit a cousin who lives in North Miami Beach. Another cousin and aunt and uncle were also here on vacation, so we had a mini reunion. It precluded another trip to a restaurant, but they had decent pizza. I’m trying to figure out how many pounds a person can gain in four days, so everything I’m eating is being eaten in the name of science. I am doing this for the good of mankind. Too bad I skipped the Krispy Kreme, then this would be a truly selfless exercise.
We got back fairly late, and after some more schmoozing with the in-laws turned in fairly later, recharging for a day of fun and sun in the morning. We awoke to a sunny South Florida morning with the slightest chill in the air, one that foretold a day of perfect temperature. Not sweltering and not too cool. Not blazing enough to have packed beaches, but not cool enough to get in the way of a day of all outdoor activity.
First, however, was brunch. There’s a place in Surfside that I love. It’s run by a French family, and is a small French café, serving salt and sweet crepes, croissants, eggs, lattes, etc. The kind of place you just want to go, because it’s so quaint and quiet and just…perfect. Fresh squeezed orange juice comes in stemware, the baguettes are toasted and served in a basket, and the bistro tables are wrought iron with matching chairs covered in a an eclectic mix of cushions.Unfortuanely there were no tables available outside, so in we sat.
MBB agreed the place was indeed quaint and wonderful, but opined that that all would be moot if the food were lousy, which it isn't. It is quite good, and very fresh tasting. Plus, when you see the chef come out of the four by nothing kitchen, with a wisp of her hair coming out of her pony tail and framing her flushed and slightly plump face, you can’t help but smile when she starts speaking to the very tall mustachioed proprietor in their native French.
Full and smiley we made our way up A1A to Hollywood, where we found parking on a side street near the north end of the famous Hollywood broadwalk. For the uninitiated that is not boardwalk spelled wrong, it’s a different type of seaside walkway. For starters, it is not raised. It abuts the beach as it meets the sand, separated only by a very low stone wall, with frequent breaks to allow for unfettered access to the sand. At some points the ocean waters are pretty close to this wide stone pedestrian paradise, and thus you get a day at the beach without all the sand in your shoes, toes, hair, nails, etc,. The broadwalk was bustling on a Sunday afternoon, the restaurants were packed, the bike lane was full, and the walkers were many. Live music pulsated from many of the eateries and bars, though the atmosphere remained “family friendly.” Not surprising really, considering that we did not see anyone between the ages of fifteen and thirty. Unlike Lincoln road where the age of the people ran from weeks old to possibly a century and everything in between, we only saw pre teen and younger and thirty and older in Hollywood. We walked about three miles or so, total, and introduced the boy to the beauty of the ocean, he seemed fascinated. The rolling waves, the crashing sounds, he was mesmerized. Unlike his parents he did not get to feel the sand in his toes, and we doubt he appreciated that salty air scent.
Late lunch, gifts for the kids, a slow drive back, and a late dinner out after depositing the boy with his doting grandparents, rounded out the day.
This morning we went for brunch again at my little café, this time a party of four. It was nice and leisurely, and when we got back I made sure to spend time on the terrace just enjoying the view and the sunshine. Then off to the airport and back to the the windy cold temperatures of New York. We got lucky with our flight crew. Not only did they speak clearly on the PA system (I’ve often wondered if pilots needed to pass a deep voice test to get their license), but they updated us continuously. Like when we were put in a holding pattern, and when we turned over Atlantic City, and when we were put in a second holding pattern, and when we landed and needed to be towed into our gate, and when the jetway had no power and we would have to wait longer to get off the plane, and when we would have to sit down, re-stow all our items because the jetway really wasn’t working and we would have to change gates, and then GOOD NEWS! When the jetway did work before we pulled away and changed gates we were all able to deplane. ( I wonder if there was some guy who had flipped a switch and there was a flurry of activity and everyone trying to fix the problem, and this one little guy was just like …ooops, sorry…and flipped it back on).
So now it's back to real life.
I can't wait.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Musings from Miami
I woke up this morning, and moved the vertical shade over just a touch, peeked out and saw the tops of the palm trees swaying in the overcast morning light. Getting up was fairly easy knowing a day of warm outdoor activity awaited us.
I made a quick call to reserve two kayaks from a place right near my inlaws apartment (I didn't want to leave the baby for too long, so we didn't go to a potentially better spot), and got ready to go. I wanted just a few things from this trip. Time with MBB, kayaking, and after months of deprivation, some good meals, if they HAD to be in resteraunts? Well we'd muddle through.
We arrived atthe rental place, and I looked in the water, and see a type of I have not seen before. Now I love kayaking, but I haven't done it that often. In fact this would be the fourth time. So, I'm certainly no expert, but when I looked down on this hard blue plastic catamaran style kayak, I could not imagine looking sleek gliding through the waters of Miami Beach. But here we were. We got into the kayaks, and by now, having done this three times before, I am pleased to say we did not embarrass ourselves disembarking. For that matter I'd say we did pretty well the whole trip, but just to be sure I made sure to get two single kayaks. The extra money for the rental was worth it (I still have visions of "left, LEFT!!!!LEFT!! in my mind), because we each paddled without any worries of staying in sync, and we had a really nice time. We would have paddled further up then we did, but the "in- water" boat show starts next week, so the yachts have started to arrive, and special docks are built, and we didn't want to deal with that very frightening traffic in the water, so we only made up to about 43rd street, and turned back around. A s it is a private large boat passed us, and left us ridingbits wake for a few minutes even after it was long out of sight. The way back was definitely harder, probably because we were more tired at that point, but we left invigorated. It really was fun. As obsessions go, I like this one. It's fun, and good exercise, and not something that can be done too often. When the opportunity presents itself, I certainly do not want to pass it up.
We came back to a little boy who very much enjoyed the company of his grandparents, cleaned ourselves up, from the salt water that drips from the paddles, and got ready to go for a fairly late lunch. We got to the eatery, the ambiance was nice, but it was kind of low lit, so I asked if they still had outdoor seating(we had been there before a few years ago, when it was under different ownership, and a different name, as is fairly typical down here). We didn't come this far to sit inside. We were seated on the patio-which is really a no walled tent with hard clear plastic sides, and lots of plants ringing the perimeter, set up at the edge of a semi-public parking lot. It was very lovely, and a good place to sit with the little man, since we were the only ones out there, and his few yelps and minor cries were disruptive to no one.
As we were finishing up, we got a strong, strong scent of something very smelly. At first I thought perhaps a dog had done it's business right outside of where we were sitting, but after just another second or two, I realized that I needed to move my son, lest he receive a contact high from the two brilliant fellows who were enjoying the fruits of their freshly rolled labor. The waiter happened to be outside with us at the time, and thought it was hysterical, but also went over to the two guys and asked them to move their party elsewhere. They complied. I think he may have mentioned the baby as a way to get them to move on.
Now, I'm not sure if what happened next, happened or was just a very quick result of some inhalation, but within three seconds of those guys moving, a man and a woman came down a ramp right next to the back door of the restaurant. The man was a typical South Beach sixty year old. Shoulder length wavy hair, black shirt-half opened and tight pants. She on the other hand has me wondering how much I actually breathed in. Most likely not a day under sixty, she was wearing a scoop neck top with a high waisted belt over very tight leggings and boots. She was also sporting three very large medallion necklaces, and what could best be described as a pseudo police hat.
I consider myself a fairly polite person, but MBB and I could NOT contain our laughter!
Having been well entertained we opted for more people watching by strolling along the pedestrian promenade of Lincoln Road. That was enjoyable, as the weather was not too hot, and still slightly overcast. We slipped into the Ghiradelli store and pretended to look around, knowing a free sample was in the offing. Caramel was the flavor this week, and since MBB is off sugar, it , meant two for me. Score!
Then back to the apartment to get ready for Shabbos. Hopefully the weather will improve.
I made a quick call to reserve two kayaks from a place right near my inlaws apartment (I didn't want to leave the baby for too long, so we didn't go to a potentially better spot), and got ready to go. I wanted just a few things from this trip. Time with MBB, kayaking, and after months of deprivation, some good meals, if they HAD to be in resteraunts? Well we'd muddle through.
We arrived atthe rental place, and I looked in the water, and see a type of I have not seen before. Now I love kayaking, but I haven't done it that often. In fact this would be the fourth time. So, I'm certainly no expert, but when I looked down on this hard blue plastic catamaran style kayak, I could not imagine looking sleek gliding through the waters of Miami Beach. But here we were. We got into the kayaks, and by now, having done this three times before, I am pleased to say we did not embarrass ourselves disembarking. For that matter I'd say we did pretty well the whole trip, but just to be sure I made sure to get two single kayaks. The extra money for the rental was worth it (I still have visions of "left, LEFT!!!!LEFT!! in my mind), because we each paddled without any worries of staying in sync, and we had a really nice time. We would have paddled further up then we did, but the "in- water" boat show starts next week, so the yachts have started to arrive, and special docks are built, and we didn't want to deal with that very frightening traffic in the water, so we only made up to about 43rd street, and turned back around. A s it is a private large boat passed us, and left us ridingbits wake for a few minutes even after it was long out of sight. The way back was definitely harder, probably because we were more tired at that point, but we left invigorated. It really was fun. As obsessions go, I like this one. It's fun, and good exercise, and not something that can be done too often. When the opportunity presents itself, I certainly do not want to pass it up.
We came back to a little boy who very much enjoyed the company of his grandparents, cleaned ourselves up, from the salt water that drips from the paddles, and got ready to go for a fairly late lunch. We got to the eatery, the ambiance was nice, but it was kind of low lit, so I asked if they still had outdoor seating(we had been there before a few years ago, when it was under different ownership, and a different name, as is fairly typical down here). We didn't come this far to sit inside. We were seated on the patio-which is really a no walled tent with hard clear plastic sides, and lots of plants ringing the perimeter, set up at the edge of a semi-public parking lot. It was very lovely, and a good place to sit with the little man, since we were the only ones out there, and his few yelps and minor cries were disruptive to no one.
As we were finishing up, we got a strong, strong scent of something very smelly. At first I thought perhaps a dog had done it's business right outside of where we were sitting, but after just another second or two, I realized that I needed to move my son, lest he receive a contact high from the two brilliant fellows who were enjoying the fruits of their freshly rolled labor. The waiter happened to be outside with us at the time, and thought it was hysterical, but also went over to the two guys and asked them to move their party elsewhere. They complied. I think he may have mentioned the baby as a way to get them to move on.
Now, I'm not sure if what happened next, happened or was just a very quick result of some inhalation, but within three seconds of those guys moving, a man and a woman came down a ramp right next to the back door of the restaurant. The man was a typical South Beach sixty year old. Shoulder length wavy hair, black shirt-half opened and tight pants. She on the other hand has me wondering how much I actually breathed in. Most likely not a day under sixty, she was wearing a scoop neck top with a high waisted belt over very tight leggings and boots. She was also sporting three very large medallion necklaces, and what could best be described as a pseudo police hat.
I consider myself a fairly polite person, but MBB and I could NOT contain our laughter!
Having been well entertained we opted for more people watching by strolling along the pedestrian promenade of Lincoln Road. That was enjoyable, as the weather was not too hot, and still slightly overcast. We slipped into the Ghiradelli store and pretended to look around, knowing a free sample was in the offing. Caramel was the flavor this week, and since MBB is off sugar, it , meant two for me. Score!
Then back to the apartment to get ready for Shabbos. Hopefully the weather will improve.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Toasty
It is so cold at home, I waited for the bus with the kids this morning, and I was jumping and jogging just to keep warm. I don't know how they do it everyday.
Now, I'm sitting on a terrace with my baby in short sleeves watching the sunset with my mother-in-law. It's 77 degrees.
aaaahhhhhh
Now, I'm sitting on a terrace with my baby in short sleeves watching the sunset with my mother-in-law. It's 77 degrees.
aaaahhhhhh
Monday, February 7, 2011
It's Really Not Fair
As much as I think certain laws are ridiculous, and I'm sure I break a few minor one here and there (speed limit? what's that?), one thing I have not gotten a ticket for ( and I've only gotten two, and that was in my twenties) is driving while using a hand held cell phone.
Many people have even asked me if I sleep with my bluetooth, the answer to which is no, I do not. But I do check my ear every Friday afternoon before I light candles to make sure it has been removed. Once you go hands free in the car it's hard to get back into holding a phone while cooking, doing laundry or just generally going about your day.
That being said, many of my friends have indeed received tickets for using a hand held cell while driving locally. I understand the dangers of this practice, and think the deterrent of a two hundred dollar ticket can POTENTIALLY makes all safer, because obviously our brains aren't doing it for us. Hey! If you get in your car in a parking lot WAIT UNTIL YOU PULL OUT OF YOUR SPOT before picking up your hand held to make a call AND try to maneuver one handed out of the space. It's not that hard to wait. If you need company turn on the radio, there's plenty of talk to keep you occupied, and maybe you'll even learn something.
Unfortunately, the police don't ticket in parking lots so this practice will continue. They do ticket on the road, and this is where I have an issue. I have seen, over the last two years, many, many, many, many, many local police officers driving in their squad cars talking on their phones. Not a radio, a plain old cell phone. There is nothing about the law against driving with a hand held cell phone that exempts a cop from this danger. There are certain traffic rules that are bendable in a safe way for police officers, even those not on their way to to an emergency, this however is not one of them.
I believe the police brass should do what needs to be done to stop this embarrassing hypocrisy and flouting of the law.
Many people have even asked me if I sleep with my bluetooth, the answer to which is no, I do not. But I do check my ear every Friday afternoon before I light candles to make sure it has been removed. Once you go hands free in the car it's hard to get back into holding a phone while cooking, doing laundry or just generally going about your day.
That being said, many of my friends have indeed received tickets for using a hand held cell while driving locally. I understand the dangers of this practice, and think the deterrent of a two hundred dollar ticket can POTENTIALLY makes all safer, because obviously our brains aren't doing it for us. Hey! If you get in your car in a parking lot WAIT UNTIL YOU PULL OUT OF YOUR SPOT before picking up your hand held to make a call AND try to maneuver one handed out of the space. It's not that hard to wait. If you need company turn on the radio, there's plenty of talk to keep you occupied, and maybe you'll even learn something.
Unfortunately, the police don't ticket in parking lots so this practice will continue. They do ticket on the road, and this is where I have an issue. I have seen, over the last two years, many, many, many, many, many local police officers driving in their squad cars talking on their phones. Not a radio, a plain old cell phone. There is nothing about the law against driving with a hand held cell phone that exempts a cop from this danger. There are certain traffic rules that are bendable in a safe way for police officers, even those not on their way to to an emergency, this however is not one of them.
I believe the police brass should do what needs to be done to stop this embarrassing hypocrisy and flouting of the law.
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