Wednesday, June 7, 2017
I'm re-booting!
It's been a minute since I've blogged, written, or posted.
So to start, I'm dropping in some links to a couple women's health articles I've written in the past.
Check these out:
Enjoy these, and let me know what you think. More to come real soon - I promise!
Friday, January 22, 2010
Monday, November 23, 2009
Personally, I dig Thanksgiving because I'm a Jewish immigrant. I thoroughly enjoy eating myself into oblivion and taking that sick, being-so-full-I-want-to-hurl-feeling to the cushiony couch and turning on the Thanksgiving Classic. But, is anyone out there curious about the “real” Pilgrim story – and what really happened during that first Thanksgiving at Plymouth Rock? How did we go from Pilgrims and Indians to shopping, stuffing, turkey, football, and pumpkin pie? Did the Pilgrims really fuck up the Indians or what?
It's a strangely familiar story (to me, at least). Persecuted, a group of English settlers took a harrowing trip in a tiny ship (that's very "Gilligan's Island," I know) and were greeted by rough waters and miserable storms. It took 66 days - over two months - and upon arriving, they realized they were in the wrong effin' place. Who knew?
Below is an excerpt from a story I wrote last year about the origins of Turkey Day. I hope you like it!
The Long and Terrible Journey
The Pilgrims did not refer to themselves Pilgrims; in fact, according to James and Patricia Scott Deetz, they probably didn't realize that they were Pilgrims. In the late 16th century, several Separatist movements emerged from the Church of England. They had little regard for the Church, which in turn labeled them as heretics because they wanted to leave the main establishment and form their own congregations. Membership in any Separatist congregation was considered a high crime against England, and King James persecuted Separatists with fervor.
The Scrooby congregation, formed in the early 17th century in Scrooby, Nottinghamshire, England, was one such group. William Bradford, the eventual governor of Plymouth Plantation, was a teenager in this congregation that had come under intense pressure.
Eventually the Scrooby congregation attempted a move to Holland. Several members of the Church, including Bradford, contracted with the master of a ship in Boston, Lincolnshire (England) to be smuggled in, but unbeknownst to them, the master turned them in to authorities and they were imprisoned for a month. Several more attempts and moves followed, and finally the group made its way to Holland.
They settled in Leiden in 1609 where they stayed for twelve years. According to Deetz, the congregation then grew restless and desired a place more “fruitful and fit for habitation," where perhaps their children would have a better life -- America.
Motivated by more than just the desire to pursue religious freedom, economic and financial status was a big motivator, and Holland was also about to go to war with Spain. The group decided to emigrate to America, and actually formed a “joint stock company”(in modern terms, a kind of "joint venture") in which they agreed to send back commodities (i.e., furs) back to England in exchange for help in colonizing New England. Several groups prior had explored New England, but none had ever planted their feet and settled there.
The Scrooby group was transported by a small ship to a larger one that they would share with their financial backers/adventurers: The Mayflower. The ship set sail on September 6, 1620 for Virginia. William Bradford, now in his late twenties, took his wife Dorothy, and along with 50 passengers left their small son in Holland. It is not known if the son ever made the trip to meet his parents, and little did the church members know that in the year that followed, half the group would perish and some families would be entirely wiped out.
The Mayflower took a 66-day, turbulent through cold weather and storms, and two passengers died en route to Virginia. Finally the ship laid anchor in Cape Cod on (or around) November 11, 1620. Sixteen men (including Bradford) took a small boat ashore to examine and scout the land. Cape Cod was not found to be suitable – and the men realized that it was also not Virginia. The Pilgrims had landed in the wrong place. Weeks later, the settlers ended up at Plymouth Rock (technically the second landing of the Mayflower).
What many don't realize is that passengers lived on the Mayflower and were anchored in the bay for several weeks, possibly months, before it was decided that they would settle at Plymouth Rock (on or around December 30). By then, William Bradford's wife Dorothy grew weary, and what she saw from the ship looked nothing like England. Devastated, she threw herself off of the ship and drowned. Four others had also fallen ill while anchored in the bay and died.
Bradford would eventually remarry, but not before suffering through an intense and terrible first winter. The settlers, already weakened by disease and a miserable voyage, were wrecked by scurvy and pneumonia. During that first winter, half of them (about 53) died.
For months, the Pilgrims went back and forth between the ship and the land, and the Mayflower did not make its way back to England until April 1621.
What’s worse, according to Author David Horowitz, is that the settlers were unaware that they had dug in their heels upon a Wampanoag Indian village called Patuxet, which was obliterated by the plague four years earlier. European traders had explored the area, and unintentionally brought with them smallpox and yellow fever. Ten thousand native peoples were wiped out.
Squanto, the Wampanoag leader who would later make acquaintance with the Pilgrims, lived in Patuxet until he was kidnapped and sold into slavery in Europe. He found his way back, only to find his village decimated by disease and occupied by strangers.
The First Thanksgiving - and Squanto
The Mayflower Pilgrims were the first Europeans in New England's history to plant their feet down and settle in the area, and around March 1621, they came face-to-face with the Wampanoag.
Relations were strained at first but eventually, Samoset, who spoke English, and Squanto, who also spoke English, befriended the Pilgrims and signed a treaty with them; to protect themselves from each other and rival tribes. Squanto agreed to stay behind as a translator, and taught the settlers how to plant and tend to the cornmeal seed they had discovered several months earlier.
In the months that followed, the Indians, led by Squanto, and the Pilgrims, led initially by John Carver and then by William Bradford, exchanged gifts, formed alliances, and tended to their harvests. In October 1621, ninety Wampanoag Indians were invited to Plymouth for a three-day Thanksgiving feast where they celebrated several things: continuing peace, the fact that settlers had stopped dying and regained health, and of course, the harvest.
The First Thanksgiving Dinner - and The Menu
Peggy Baker, Director of Pilgrim Hall in Plymouth, Massachusetts, says that the first Thanksgiving menu was not quite what one would expect. There were about 140 people to feed, so the meal was obviously large and fairly varied, she says. While many of the things on our tables today like turkey, stuffing, gravy, corn, pumpkin, cranberries, apples, and mashed potatoes were indeed introduced to the U.S. by Europeans, the fact is that in 1621, most of the traditional Thanksgiving foods did not exist.
There were fowl on the menu and turkey was included, but not in abundance. The Pilgrims ate pigeons, geese, swans, eagles, and ducks. Governor William Bradford did bring along a wild turkey, but the bulk of the meat was supplied by the Wampanoag and was actually deer, cod, bass, and lobster.
Pumpkin and corn were of course on the menu, but since wheat had not yet made it to New England, there was no crust and there was definitely no pie. Sugar and molasses were not going to be around for at least another hundred years. In their absence, vegetables were seasoned with cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger. There were no apples, pears or potatoes (also not around for another century), but wild berries, chestnuts, wild strawberries and raspberries were served and everyone dined on traditional Indian cornmeal custard.
What about cranberries? Without sugar to accompany them, cranberries were too sour and the settlers did not want to eat them. One thing the settlers did have at their table was beer, and plenty of it, as it was the beverage of choice at the time.
Evolution of Thanksgiving
Why was the very first Thanksgiving in October? According to Baker, October was originally when animals were slaughtered and grains harvested. Thanksgiving only evolved into a "November" holiday when families spread out as people migrated south. The holiday was moved to the cooler part of the season, so families could travel without the risk of catching cholera. People also liked the idea of a Thanksgiving feast happening on the same day annually so that everyone could be together.
Initially, there was never a sanctioned day for Thanksgiving, even though George Washington proclaimed one in 1789. It never became official, and Presidents would have to declare the holiday annually. For a time, Southern states refused to celebrate it on the grounds that it was considered too Puritanical. A number of editorials written by Sarah Joseph Hale eventually convinced Abraham Lincoln to proclaim a day of Thanksgiving in 1863; it was an attempt at unity in the aftermath of the Civil War. In the early 20th century, Thanksgiving was again used to forge unity in the aftermath of World War I and was directed at the influx of new immigrants.
Eventually, Thanksgiving, and in some cases, the Friday after Thanksgiving, were declared paid holidays by the government. With that, the holiday has evolved into the traveling, barhopping, football-watching and shopping weekend we now know it to be.
Because, really, where would be we without the NFL Classic and Rivalry weekend? Whatever the day means, spending time with family and friends is what's important. Many face a daunting trek home, but once there, the pain melts away as we sit with our families stuffing our faces, right? Happy Holidays!
It's a strangely familiar story (to me, at least). Persecuted, a group of English settlers took a harrowing trip in a tiny ship (that's very "Gilligan's Island," I know) and were greeted by rough waters and miserable storms. It took 66 days - over two months - and upon arriving, they realized they were in the wrong effin' place. Who knew?
Below is an excerpt from a story I wrote last year about the origins of Turkey Day. I hope you like it!
The Long and Terrible Journey
The Pilgrims did not refer to themselves Pilgrims; in fact, according to James and Patricia Scott Deetz, they probably didn't realize that they were Pilgrims. In the late 16th century, several Separatist movements emerged from the Church of England. They had little regard for the Church, which in turn labeled them as heretics because they wanted to leave the main establishment and form their own congregations. Membership in any Separatist congregation was considered a high crime against England, and King James persecuted Separatists with fervor.
The Scrooby congregation, formed in the early 17th century in Scrooby, Nottinghamshire, England, was one such group. William Bradford, the eventual governor of Plymouth Plantation, was a teenager in this congregation that had come under intense pressure.
Eventually the Scrooby congregation attempted a move to Holland. Several members of the Church, including Bradford, contracted with the master of a ship in Boston, Lincolnshire (England) to be smuggled in, but unbeknownst to them, the master turned them in to authorities and they were imprisoned for a month. Several more attempts and moves followed, and finally the group made its way to Holland.
They settled in Leiden in 1609 where they stayed for twelve years. According to Deetz, the congregation then grew restless and desired a place more “fruitful and fit for habitation," where perhaps their children would have a better life -- America.
Motivated by more than just the desire to pursue religious freedom, economic and financial status was a big motivator, and Holland was also about to go to war with Spain. The group decided to emigrate to America, and actually formed a “joint stock company”(in modern terms, a kind of "joint venture") in which they agreed to send back commodities (i.e., furs) back to England in exchange for help in colonizing New England. Several groups prior had explored New England, but none had ever planted their feet and settled there.
The Scrooby group was transported by a small ship to a larger one that they would share with their financial backers/adventurers: The Mayflower. The ship set sail on September 6, 1620 for Virginia. William Bradford, now in his late twenties, took his wife Dorothy, and along with 50 passengers left their small son in Holland. It is not known if the son ever made the trip to meet his parents, and little did the church members know that in the year that followed, half the group would perish and some families would be entirely wiped out.
The Mayflower took a 66-day, turbulent through cold weather and storms, and two passengers died en route to Virginia. Finally the ship laid anchor in Cape Cod on (or around) November 11, 1620. Sixteen men (including Bradford) took a small boat ashore to examine and scout the land. Cape Cod was not found to be suitable – and the men realized that it was also not Virginia. The Pilgrims had landed in the wrong place. Weeks later, the settlers ended up at Plymouth Rock (technically the second landing of the Mayflower).
What many don't realize is that passengers lived on the Mayflower and were anchored in the bay for several weeks, possibly months, before it was decided that they would settle at Plymouth Rock (on or around December 30). By then, William Bradford's wife Dorothy grew weary, and what she saw from the ship looked nothing like England. Devastated, she threw herself off of the ship and drowned. Four others had also fallen ill while anchored in the bay and died.
Bradford would eventually remarry, but not before suffering through an intense and terrible first winter. The settlers, already weakened by disease and a miserable voyage, were wrecked by scurvy and pneumonia. During that first winter, half of them (about 53) died.
For months, the Pilgrims went back and forth between the ship and the land, and the Mayflower did not make its way back to England until April 1621.
What’s worse, according to Author David Horowitz, is that the settlers were unaware that they had dug in their heels upon a Wampanoag Indian village called Patuxet, which was obliterated by the plague four years earlier. European traders had explored the area, and unintentionally brought with them smallpox and yellow fever. Ten thousand native peoples were wiped out.
Squanto, the Wampanoag leader who would later make acquaintance with the Pilgrims, lived in Patuxet until he was kidnapped and sold into slavery in Europe. He found his way back, only to find his village decimated by disease and occupied by strangers.
The First Thanksgiving - and Squanto
The Mayflower Pilgrims were the first Europeans in New England's history to plant their feet down and settle in the area, and around March 1621, they came face-to-face with the Wampanoag.
Relations were strained at first but eventually, Samoset, who spoke English, and Squanto, who also spoke English, befriended the Pilgrims and signed a treaty with them; to protect themselves from each other and rival tribes. Squanto agreed to stay behind as a translator, and taught the settlers how to plant and tend to the cornmeal seed they had discovered several months earlier.
In the months that followed, the Indians, led by Squanto, and the Pilgrims, led initially by John Carver and then by William Bradford, exchanged gifts, formed alliances, and tended to their harvests. In October 1621, ninety Wampanoag Indians were invited to Plymouth for a three-day Thanksgiving feast where they celebrated several things: continuing peace, the fact that settlers had stopped dying and regained health, and of course, the harvest.
The First Thanksgiving Dinner - and The Menu
Peggy Baker, Director of Pilgrim Hall in Plymouth, Massachusetts, says that the first Thanksgiving menu was not quite what one would expect. There were about 140 people to feed, so the meal was obviously large and fairly varied, she says. While many of the things on our tables today like turkey, stuffing, gravy, corn, pumpkin, cranberries, apples, and mashed potatoes were indeed introduced to the U.S. by Europeans, the fact is that in 1621, most of the traditional Thanksgiving foods did not exist.
There were fowl on the menu and turkey was included, but not in abundance. The Pilgrims ate pigeons, geese, swans, eagles, and ducks. Governor William Bradford did bring along a wild turkey, but the bulk of the meat was supplied by the Wampanoag and was actually deer, cod, bass, and lobster.
Pumpkin and corn were of course on the menu, but since wheat had not yet made it to New England, there was no crust and there was definitely no pie. Sugar and molasses were not going to be around for at least another hundred years. In their absence, vegetables were seasoned with cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger. There were no apples, pears or potatoes (also not around for another century), but wild berries, chestnuts, wild strawberries and raspberries were served and everyone dined on traditional Indian cornmeal custard.
What about cranberries? Without sugar to accompany them, cranberries were too sour and the settlers did not want to eat them. One thing the settlers did have at their table was beer, and plenty of it, as it was the beverage of choice at the time.
Evolution of Thanksgiving
Why was the very first Thanksgiving in October? According to Baker, October was originally when animals were slaughtered and grains harvested. Thanksgiving only evolved into a "November" holiday when families spread out as people migrated south. The holiday was moved to the cooler part of the season, so families could travel without the risk of catching cholera. People also liked the idea of a Thanksgiving feast happening on the same day annually so that everyone could be together.
Initially, there was never a sanctioned day for Thanksgiving, even though George Washington proclaimed one in 1789. It never became official, and Presidents would have to declare the holiday annually. For a time, Southern states refused to celebrate it on the grounds that it was considered too Puritanical. A number of editorials written by Sarah Joseph Hale eventually convinced Abraham Lincoln to proclaim a day of Thanksgiving in 1863; it was an attempt at unity in the aftermath of the Civil War. In the early 20th century, Thanksgiving was again used to forge unity in the aftermath of World War I and was directed at the influx of new immigrants.
Eventually, Thanksgiving, and in some cases, the Friday after Thanksgiving, were declared paid holidays by the government. With that, the holiday has evolved into the traveling, barhopping, football-watching and shopping weekend we now know it to be.
Because, really, where would be we without the NFL Classic and Rivalry weekend? Whatever the day means, spending time with family and friends is what's important. Many face a daunting trek home, but once there, the pain melts away as we sit with our families stuffing our faces, right? Happy Holidays!
Friday, November 13, 2009
Why Rabbi Shmuley Boteach Really Gets on my Nerves
Humor me please.
In Judaism, one of the major duties we're charged with is "Tikkun Olam," the commitment to compassion for others, in repairing the world. Actually, Tikkun Olam is a commandment - a mitzvah. Building on that, it's required that we conduct ourselves in a "holy" manner, i.e., observe Torah, observe a diet that is respectful toward animals (kashrus), observe the Sabbath, work toward certain obligations, etc. That way, we're more capable of understanding what it really requires to repair said world. So, perhaps it is reasonable to assume that as Jews, Tikkun Olam is ever-present in our consciousness.
For people like me, (I am a non-religious Jew), a pared down, more modern version of Tikkun Olam means living a mindful, compassionate life:
-thinking about the world sociologically and trying to repair it,
-living peacefully
-living ethically.
People who know me well know that I make an earnest attempt to live this way on a daily basis.
Call me crazy, but if I'm committed, then shouldn't a Rabbi be about ten times more committed? Rabbis are supposed to be our ethical counselors, and they're supposed to be bound by venerable principles, among them confidentiality. How else are we to trust them, otherwise? Michael Jackson and others who came to Boteach (at the very least) must have assumed their deep, dark secrets were safe. Oops.
Said Shmuley last June:
"I am a Rabbi who believes in G-d. Hence, I stay away from the celebrity culture which makes men and women – celebrities – into gods, and that is misguided and unacceptable.
Hence, I never really comment about Michael (Jackson) at all because my involvement with him was not about him as a celebrity, but about the work we did together to help kids. When that ended, our relationship essentially did as well. I have no interest in having superstar friends. My interest is pleasing G-d, working to help people, being a decent husband, and raising my seven children."
Really? So in the name of "pleasing God" and Tikkun Olam, what is Boteach doing? He's first in line to publish a very private book about MJ ("In the Soul of Michael Jackson") under the guise of helping people. He's betraying a dead guy, gossiping about him, and profiting from it in the name of kindness and compassion. A Rabbi. To me, this is totally unacceptable. What a hypocrite.
There's a special name for this ultimate no-no in Judaism, and it's called "Lashon Ha-ra," which literally means "evil speech."
Rabbi Michael P. Sternfield of Chicago Sinai Congregation said in the HuffPost recently,
"When Rabbi Boteach spoke publicly about his experiences with Michael Jackson, he did serious harm to all rabbis and other clergy as well. No doubt Boteach felt he was advancing his own career and public profile as the "rabbi to the stars." But he should have given more thought to the serious damage he was doing. As he must know, he also violated several of the sacred principles of our Jewish religion which specifically prohibit tale-bearing (even when the tales may be true), gossip, and "lashon ha-ra" (meaning evil speech.)"
Note to Rabbi Shmuley: You've overdosed on your own Kool Aid. Please take a look within yourself, identify your own desire to expand your pockets through lectures, book sales, appearances on "Dateline" and the ultimate betrayal of a human being (for profit) and then give me a call. You'd better start packing on some mitzvot, my friend. Or at least start practicing what you preach.
In Judaism, one of the major duties we're charged with is "Tikkun Olam," the commitment to compassion for others, in repairing the world. Actually, Tikkun Olam is a commandment - a mitzvah. Building on that, it's required that we conduct ourselves in a "holy" manner, i.e., observe Torah, observe a diet that is respectful toward animals (kashrus), observe the Sabbath, work toward certain obligations, etc. That way, we're more capable of understanding what it really requires to repair said world. So, perhaps it is reasonable to assume that as Jews, Tikkun Olam is ever-present in our consciousness.
For people like me, (I am a non-religious Jew), a pared down, more modern version of Tikkun Olam means living a mindful, compassionate life:
-thinking about the world sociologically and trying to repair it,
-living peacefully
-living ethically.
People who know me well know that I make an earnest attempt to live this way on a daily basis.
Call me crazy, but if I'm committed, then shouldn't a Rabbi be about ten times more committed? Rabbis are supposed to be our ethical counselors, and they're supposed to be bound by venerable principles, among them confidentiality. How else are we to trust them, otherwise? Michael Jackson and others who came to Boteach (at the very least) must have assumed their deep, dark secrets were safe. Oops.
Said Shmuley last June:
"I am a Rabbi who believes in G-d. Hence, I stay away from the celebrity culture which makes men and women – celebrities – into gods, and that is misguided and unacceptable.
Hence, I never really comment about Michael (Jackson) at all because my involvement with him was not about him as a celebrity, but about the work we did together to help kids. When that ended, our relationship essentially did as well. I have no interest in having superstar friends. My interest is pleasing G-d, working to help people, being a decent husband, and raising my seven children."
Really? So in the name of "pleasing God" and Tikkun Olam, what is Boteach doing? He's first in line to publish a very private book about MJ ("In the Soul of Michael Jackson") under the guise of helping people. He's betraying a dead guy, gossiping about him, and profiting from it in the name of kindness and compassion. A Rabbi. To me, this is totally unacceptable. What a hypocrite.
There's a special name for this ultimate no-no in Judaism, and it's called "Lashon Ha-ra," which literally means "evil speech."
Rabbi Michael P. Sternfield of Chicago Sinai Congregation said in the HuffPost recently,
"When Rabbi Boteach spoke publicly about his experiences with Michael Jackson, he did serious harm to all rabbis and other clergy as well. No doubt Boteach felt he was advancing his own career and public profile as the "rabbi to the stars." But he should have given more thought to the serious damage he was doing. As he must know, he also violated several of the sacred principles of our Jewish religion which specifically prohibit tale-bearing (even when the tales may be true), gossip, and "lashon ha-ra" (meaning evil speech.)"
Note to Rabbi Shmuley: You've overdosed on your own Kool Aid. Please take a look within yourself, identify your own desire to expand your pockets through lectures, book sales, appearances on "Dateline" and the ultimate betrayal of a human being (for profit) and then give me a call. You'd better start packing on some mitzvot, my friend. Or at least start practicing what you preach.
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