Who's your boss?

Wow. This is some dedication and perseverance. Though I get almost no comments and only a shy email response now and then, I keep plugging away… I thought I’d continue on the previously-discussed subject of bumper stickers. I wonder what it takes, what amount of passion for a saying, a team, a town, etc. to plaster it permanently on one’s car. Even the funniest phrase must lose its luster after a few months.

I guess it’s just an unselfish gesture for fellow drivers stuck behind.
One of my all-time favorites is “MY BOSS IS A JEWISH CARPENTER.” My very first thought the first time I saw it was “what an anti-Semitic remark,” which was an anti-Semetic thought. You see, I pondered “what the fuck… they are making fun of the fact that Jews are never in labor-intensive trades.” When, in fact, the driver was merely expressing his devotion to Jesus Christ. Jesus was a Jewish carpenter. That was way too much for my little head. The bumper sticker left such an impression on me, that I spent almost a quarter of my drive thinking it through. It struck me that the whole “prefer not to work with my hands” attitude dates back to Jesus. I am no scholar of the New Testament. I guess I am no scholar – period. Yet, it seems that there were no scenes of Jesus say…building a house… or even fixing a fence. Did he study carpentry in his youth? What qualified him as such?

That brings me to more current events. We had a leak and I was looking for a plumber. It took no less than four recommendations from local moms for me to call on Dave Goldberg plumbing. Dave Goldberg CPA? – no problem. Law Offices of Dave Goldberg? – fine. But Dave Goldberg plumbing? I deem myself to be reasonably open-minded, but that is pushing it ever so slightly. Dave didn’t show up himself, turns out he has over 25 people in his employ. And they did an excellent job. And yes, that's Dave's picture here.

I guess at this point in my life my distrust is derived from my own lack of any real trade. It would be great to be able to do something unique and indispensable with my hands. I certainly wish for Maddie to be able to do something like that. Perhaps she can become a diamond cutter to pay her way through medical school. It’s a win-win…win. Really.


P.S. JP put in a power outlet where there was none before. I am proud. Then again, I don’t want to state the obvious.

The Earth Is Our Mother

I can totally appreciate eclectic, hippie music. OK, maybe not totally, but sometimes, I can tolerate it. I recently started taking Music Together classes with Maddie. She likes it, mostly because she gets to jump around and flirt with boys and make eyes at other mommies as though she doesn’t get enough love at home and is looking to get adopted like Annie.

The repertoire of Music Together is really special. First, you have my favorite “The Earth Is Our Mother” chant song, which I refuse to sing without smoking some illegal substances first. So I don’t sing along… But the teacher is strict, so I may have to start. She says it’s important that parents set an example for their children, but it just wouldn’t be a genuine representation. Then there is… you guessed it, Tum Balaika! That’s right! What goes better with he jana ho jana, the earth is our mother she will take care of us than tum balalaika shpil balalala? We practiced at home before going to class, but she never played it. Anti-Semite? Then there are more obscure songs and at the first class, I kept bugging my friend to enlighten me whether the song was a “real” children's song or some intellectual property of Music Together.

The kids get to play with different instruments that they dig out of the bin and I get to pick some for myself, so I can set an example. Generally, I pick the cowbell or the triangle, which I pretend is a cowbell. Cause I gotta have more cowbell. And it never fails to crack me up!

In all seriousness, I feel very lucky to be in a position to take my baby to a music class specifically designed for little brats like her in remote hopes that this will be beneficial to her development and my sanity.