Culture – Page 22 – Don't Gel Too Soon

Now Is the Time: Martin Luther King, Neshama Carlebach and the Green Pastures Baptist Church Choir

Every year we celebrate the birthday of
Martin Luther King in a joint concert between our synagogue and Reverend Roger
Hambrick and his New York-based Green Pastures Baptist Church Choir. DC and New York, white and black, Jewish and Christian… we gather to honor the holiday for
this man who meant so much to all of us. This year, the choir was joined
by the legendary Neshama
Carlebach, daughter of the revered Sholmo Carlebach and a talent in her own
right.

It’s a strange thing really – Orthodox Jews
and Bronx Baptists dancing in the aisles singing Kivo Moed — Now is the
Time… quite remarkable. It’s always moving – and no
less so tonight — just not much original to say about it. Just take a
look and enjoy it for yourself.

Then stop over to this week’s boomer blogging carnival. It’s fun to read and I am really enjoying being part of it.

FABULOUS SCRABULOUS, LAWRENCE LESSIG AND A FACEBOOK CRISIS

Way back a million years ago in the 1990s, the Internet mantra was "information wants to be free." In other words, if you could figure out how to get something up on the Web, it was meant to be there. So there was Napster – all the music you could grab. Books, games, news, music, images — whatever you wanted you could find. — for free. Just like, right now, you can find the wonderful Scrabulous on Facebook.

Then attorney and — really — guru of the Information Age Lawrence Lessig launched an entirely new way to define copyrights and began to institutionalize a new perspective on information. Basically, since musicians, film makers, visual artists and authors were all sampling previous works within their new creations, Lessig demanded a new approach to the protection of intellectual property.

So our beloved Interweb offers us a chance to find out anything about anything and gather any information from any source, but it also offers us real ethical problems:

For most of my life, I’ve made my living producing television news pieces and being pretty well paid for it. Now, I’m often compensated for my work on the web – except for this blog. I wrote and published a book, published book reviews for years and have written and published other features. I get paid for my work; that’s how I live. If all information were to break free — who would pay the creators? Or, for that matter, the distributors. Even if books are published online they need to get there; advance URLS have to be sent to reviewers, someone has to edit and proof-read. That work, unlike information, does not want to be free. Lessig would say it’s too late to worry about that – online access has released the information so stop complaining and find another way to monetize your work.

Fair enough. I have heard Lessig speak about this and it’s thrilling. The 60’s girl in me loves the anarchic idea — after all, information does want to be free. But the analysis and creation of that information – not so much. Right now Hasbro and Mattel are trying to get a restraining order against Facebook, requiring the removal of the Facebook version of Scrabble, Scrabulous, for copyright violations. Created by a couple of brothers in India and posted for free, it’s one of Facebook’s stars. I’ll be devastated if the game is actually removed because it’s such a kick. At the same time, I understand the concept of getting paid for distributing content, not just for creating it. The Scrabulous brothers chose to built and post Scrabulous for free. That’s their decision. But even company employees (including the people who make Scrabble boards and design their labels and ship the game to gift shops and Toys R Us, also have to eat. It’s as if all sides are right. Lessig’s exploration of all this is invaluable, but there’s no answer yet – except of course in the law, which currently favors the terrestrial owners of such properties. Josh Quittner, in his Fortune blog, has another perspective. We’re on a journey here just as we’ve been with the rest of the wonders and miracles that are the Web.

What do you think? It’s worth a comment here, no?

EVERYONE LOVES JUNO – AND THEY’RE RIGHT

You’re probably sick of hype about Juno, a movie that deserves every ounce of praise heaped upon it now and in the future (and that will happen – and happen… and happen!) One of our sons called to insist that we go, then, in San Francisco, the other walked in to lunch and said "Forget Atonement, you have to go see Juno. It’s the best movie in so long!" Inertia, and the chaos of the holidays, plus that fact that everyone we were with over the holidays except Rick and me had seen it, intervened. Then, when we got home I ran into a sixteen year old friend with whom I share Harry Potter pleasures, and she urged us to go.

So last Saturday night I invited two friends of ours, close to 80 and major movie maniacs, to go with us. They came, although nobody but me wanted to see it. It was raining. The online ticket thingy didn’t work and we had to wait in line in the rain. THEN the line to get into the theater itself snaked all the way back past the concession stand. I was in big trouble. You of course can imagine the outcome: despite all the drama – everyone loved it. I can now tell you with some authority that be you sixteen or thirty or sixty or eighty, male or female, cynic, cerebral, romantic, adolescent, child psychiatrist, game designer, law professor or young parent, unless you have a heart of stone or no sense of humor, you will love this film!

There’s no reason to describe the story; it’s appeared everywhere. But here’s the trailer.

Let me add only that calling Juno a movie about a girl who gets pregnant is like calling Atonement a war movie. The characters and the script they inhabit*, the acting, the wonderful production decisions from opening credits to casting to sound track (so so great) to transitions, were spot-on. So stop reading this and go see it! And if you feel like it, let me know what you thought.

*written by Diablo Cody, who was a stripper/blogger who was recruited to write the film by someone who frequented her blog on the sex trade.

1968 WAS FORTY YEARS AGO — SO MANY STORIES — AND A PROMISE

That’s me in 1968. As everybody knows, it was a remarkable, scary, thrilling, transforming year to alive and young; even more, to be part of the struggle to end the war in Vietnam and, generally, change the world. The outcomes are known, and the journey endlessly chronicled, but I think I’m going to spend this year – right here – as anniversaries pass, writing about what I felt and meant to be, what I hoped for, what I remember. Just as we did in Nablopomo, I’m announcing it here… just to be sure I do it….

Happy New Year.

CITY LIGHTS BOOKS, SAN FRANCISCO AND MY LOVELY SONS

When I was in high school this was one of the places I dreamed of coming: San Francisco’s City Lights Bookstore. Far from my home in Pittsburgh, arty, intellectual and free. Ironic then that all these years later I’m here, usually, to visit sons ten years older than I was when I set my sights on Greenwich Village or Bloomsbury. . . or San Francisco.

One lives here; the other’s girlfriend lives here so he pretty much commutes here from Seattle. It’s a perfect place to meet and spend the holidays. We came out for Thanksgiving and are here again, this time since Christmas day.

It’s been lovely, if a bit stressful: a new girlfriend for our younger one – we had dinner with her – and the pressure that comes from wanting infrequent visits to go well. At best we see one another every couple of months; both boys wish we lived closer which makes me feel good but it’s tough that we don’t — and have not much prospect of ever moving this direction.

Now it’s our last day and the usual burgeoning lump in the throat has appeared. Both boys have been genuinely happy to be with us and have ditched their calendars to spend the week with us. I’m very grateful for their attention – they think I’m nuts and say of course they want to be with us. For some reason this astonishes me. We do have fun – jabbering about everything from Benazir Bhutto to series television. Lots of laughter and the additional delight of seeing the boys and Josh’s friend Amy laughing and enjoying one another’s company. But as the time comes to leave, board the plane and fly back to our DC lives, a determined sadness permeates even the happiest of moments. I once interviewed Naomi Foner, mother to Maggie and Jake Gyllenhaal and the woman who wrote Running on Empty, a film about children leaving home in a particularly profound and complete way. "Parenthood is the only job" she told me, "where you measure success by how well you say goodbye."

Manifestly, we’ve done that well. Our boys are strong, self-sufficient, productive men who are friends to one another and love their parents. They know we’re here but know too that they can take care of themselves. In that way, we’d be defined as successful. But. But. No matter how proud I am, how grateful for their strength and wisdom, humor and goodness, I miss them.

They are the treasures of my days and will always be, and the physical distance that prevents an easy Sunday afternoon movie or Chinese dinner and makes every visit an event is always a painful reality.

I’ll deal with it and so will they. It’s the way things are – and it’s certainly better to want them more than we see them than to have them sigh with relief when we leave for the airport. And whether we’re there or not, their lives are rich and often joyful. And so, I tell myself, at least when I’m missing them, I know they’ve become the men I would have wished them to be – for their sakes, not ours. And that’s a lot. It doesn’t put them here next to me — but it does send with me a quiet peace amid the sadness. That’s really all I can – or should – travel with. The rest — working toward and achieving what they want from their lives and moving forward in the world — belongs, as it should, to them.

Happy New Year.

CALIFORNIA DREAMIN’ – SAN FRANCISCO SCENES YOU MIGHT HAVE MISSED

We’re here to visit our remarkable,wonderful sons and having a lovely time – hence the virtual radio silence here. Some things though, you need to share – even during a family vacation.

First of all, you always know when you come to San Francisco that you’ll see things that might elude you elsewhere, but this one is spectacular even for the capital of Blue State America. This little guy is wearing a shirt that says "Don’t pat me, I’m working." He’s apparently an assistance animal but we were damned if we could figure out what he was assisting in doing… besides wheeling through Chinatown making friends.

Lucky Revolution Vegan Chinese Restaurant (outside of which the Monkey rolled past us.) Great combination fried rice and hotpot eggplant, too

This is the site of Dave Eggars‘ tutorial project 826 Valencia, now expanding to other cities. Author of A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, founder of McSweeney’s publishing and The Believer magazine, he’s built a place to effectively teach writing and communication to underserved kids. It’s embarrassing to wander in, thinking oneself fairly cool for knowing to come here — and to discover — a gift shop! Clearly Eggars and his crew have built something very attractive — and become a tourist attraction.

One block from 826 Valencia and across the street, this blast from the past — windows jammed with anti-war and other political messages. This is not, of course, limited to San Francisco, especially these days, but it just seems so at home here.

Yesterday my husband announced that he had a surprise for me – and dragged me out of the hotel for breakfast. Next thing I knew, we were aboard a cable car for the first time since somewhere around 1971, right after we got married and came to Stanford for him to finish school. It was a great ride on a rainy morning.

We passed this – the top of Lombard Street, San Francisco’s zig-zaggiest.

And ended up here – at the famous Buena Vista Cafe. Famous as the place that invented Irish Coffee, across the street from the end of the cable car line and just above Fishermen’s Wharf, it’s a true landmark a place we used to love. It was so great to return and sit by the window watching this city’s every-changing tourist scene. On this corner, it could still have been 1971 when we first came here. There’s something lovely about a return like this especially when it’s a gift. My sweet husband triumphant once again… 36 years after our first visit!

More pix soon. Goodnight for now.

KUNG PAO COMEDY SAN FRANCISCO STYLE: CHRISTMAS WITH SHELLEY BERMAN

Of course there’s only one way to celebrate Christmas in San Francisco if you’re Jewish – tear over to the New Asia Restaurant for a little Kung Pao Kosher Comedy. Now in its fifteenth year, this nutty evening is a great way to spend Christmas night – even if you’re not Jewish. Founder Lisa Geduldig invented King Pao for lonely and/or bored San Francisco Jews with nothing to do on Christmas and it’s now a beloved tradition and sells out 8 shows, filling a huge Chinese banquet hall and dispensing audience members to 10-person tables with names like Matzo Brei and Joan Rivers. You can see how big it is just below.

Beyond all this, there’s also a full balcony. The crowd is interesting – kids from Berkeley Hillel, families, couples, groups of pals and random strays. Unfortunately, this "kosher comedy" night isn’t kosher so we went to the "cocktail" show and didn’t eat but it was really fun. The other three acts were good, but really amazing was to see Shelley Berman, celebrating his 50th year in comedy so close to where he began at The Hungry i all those years ago.

He now, in addition to his comedy appearances, plays Larry David’s father on Curb Your Enthusiasm and a judge on Boston Legal so he’s not exactly unknown, but last night was an introduction for many clearly enchanted young people in the audience. And he does it all with a gentle humor devoid of cruelty or crassness. It’s interesting to me what we can forget about what’s possible not only between one another but also between a performer and an audience when there is high regard — real respect — going both directions.

What that meant was that, amid the hilarity, I, as usual, landed in a philosophical and somewhat political frame of mind. How have we come to a place where this sort of performance is so rare? Surely we can’t be without excellent, respectful performers. Clearly, in this hip, modern audience, there was no sense that this style was antiquated or tired. But it’s a long way between evenings like this. I guess a live Springsteen show is another true exchange between performer and audience. But in entertainment, and sadly, in politics, there sure isn’t much that leaves everyone knowing they’re valuable, worthy people who’ve shared laughter and even moments of emotional connection with those in a position to "address" them. And yeah I know this is pretty much to stand on the shoulders of a stand-up comic but I’m kind of following my head this morning and that’s where it took me.

Oh – one more thing. Just before the show started my son pointed across the room and found one of his brother’s oldest friends – also a friend of his – a musician who’s been living across the country in Stockbridge MA, waving at us. Each delighted – and impressed — at the other’s presence, we were very glad to see one another but, despite differences in age, geography and lifestyle, not at all surprised that each would choose to be there.

ATONEMENT: THE MOVIE

Have you seen Atonement? It’s haunting me. I’m not going to offer a full-on discussion – we’re leaving for San Francisco in the morning and have to get up at 4ish so this is a quick consideration. It’s one of the most beautiful films I remember in a long time, intelligent and sad. The ending is annoying but inevitable. I’m a World War II freak though – the heroism of the British has a always particularly attracted me. I have friends who always remind me of how much more the Russians suffered and how much less credit they get, but you still have to admire the strength of those suffering the Blitz for so long.

So go see it. See for yourself. Think about the universal participation – rich girls in nurses uniforms, maids and chauffeurs joining peers and poets at war. It’s at least worth going for its exploration of those times. Post here if you feel like it; I’d like to know how others feel.

Meanwhile we leave in the morning for San Francisco to see the boys and their friends. Back New Year’s Eve. For word from the city by the bay, watch this space.

HOW WE LOOK TO THE ARAB WORLD: CONTROL ROOM AND AL JAZEERA

OK so I’m three years late. Thursday morning I watched CONTROL ROOM, the 2004 documentary about the Al Jazeera news network. Only it’s not really about Al Jazeera, it’s about perceptions of the United States. About the early days of the Iraq war and how they looked through the eyes of the most watched network in the Arab world. And it’s pretty disturbing. As the New York Times said "Whatever your opinions about the war, the conduct of the journalists
who covered it and the role of Al Jazeera in that coverage, you are
likely to emerge from ”Control Room” touched, exhilarated and a
little off-balance, with your certainties scrambled and your
assumptions shaken."

Precisely. Many Al Jazeera staffers speak English. They’re articulate and thoughtful — and angry. Think about it this way: remember how it felt to see American soldiers dragged through the streets of Mogadishu or to follow the captivity of Jessica Lynch and her fellow war prisoners? Listening to interviews with reporters and translators from Al Jazeera is like listening to American journalists who had to film that horrible day; they are deeply in pain, angry and scornful of the declared mission.

Dominant within the film are likeable American spokespeople who just don’t have the words or perceptions to get past that rage. Nobody really looks like a villain – just naive. One in particular:
Lt. Josh Rushing, a young Texas Marine serving as a liaison officer. He became a "star" in reviews of the film, was then forbidden by the service to speak about the war, and left the Marine Corps to work for — Al Jazeera English. You can see the relationships growing, and the struggle of this basically decent young man to represent his country and be truthful and honorable.

The toughest part of the film for me, after all my years as a journalist, was the death of one of the Al Jazeera journalists hit by an American rocket. The tears in the eyes of the staff and crew brought back memories of lost reporters during Vietnam, and a camera crew lost in a helicopter crash when I worked at CBS. We’d met the dead journalist earlier, joking about how hard it would be to work in a flak jacket and helmet. There was sadness for him, and an awareness that events like this would only raise the level of hostility within much of the network’s staff.

As I watched, charmed and provoked by the comments of what essentially felt like my peers and colleagues, yet with a perspective I did not share, I was as unsettled as that Times review promised. These people speak to the entire Arab world and there are some real haters there and yes they run the statements of Bin Laden and more, but there are issues past that. In addition to their power and reach, many share great portions of our values and ideas. One wants to come to the US and move his kids from "the Arab nightmare" to "the American Dream." Another rages at the looting in the streets of Baghdad – predicting that zealots will push all moderates out – that "people like me" will have no place in the Arab world.

In other words, beyond the basic fact that Al Jazeera broadcasts much that is contrary to the best interests of our country and probably to my well-being as Jewish person, there lies another set of facts. All that we feel and shout to one another in newsrooms and control rooms here in the US, our assumptions and common ground – there’s another huge universe out there that we need to understand – who don’t automatically share our values – at least not all of them. And if we don’t learn how to deal with them, their assumptions and anger and dreams, we face a journey that will make our days in Iraq seem simple indeed. Here’s a preview:

A PLACE FOR EVERY JEWISH GIRL

This weekend was a special one at our synagogue: our semi-annual "Makom shabbaton." Makom means place, and the program, initiated by someone I greatly admire and sponsored in part by a local Jewish women’s foundation, works to help young girls find a place in the complicated world of Orthodox Judaism. Clearly, given the divided seating and prohibitions on certain kinds of participation, it’s a difficult undertaking, but the concept, and execution, of this project are exemplary.

Today girls in the third, fourth and fifth grade stood before the entire congregation and delivered commentary on the Torah reading for this morning, which was Va-Yiggash, the story of the reconciliation between Joseph and the brothers who sold him into slavery. It’s complicated stuff, but with the help of their spectacular teacher, they made wonderful sense of it. Why didn’t Joseph tell his dad he was OK for all those 20+ years? Why did he hide a cup in his little brother’s bag of grain, and "frame" him as a thief? Why, in big brother Judah’s pleas to Joseph for mercy, did he mention their father 14 times? In the mini-sermons given today those questions, and more, were answered.

I wish you could have seen these little girls (really, 9-12 years old) stand in front of a huge sanctuary and speak in clear, confident voices, retelling bits of the story, citing commentators and making their points. It was thrilling.

There’s lots more to do for both girls and grown women in the Orthodox world, but days like today, and the growth of groups like the Jewish Orthodox Feminist Alliance encourage optimism. Of course here I am, only four years into life as a somewhat – more and more – Orthodox woman -and already ready to join the revolution. [What else is new? ]

The women (and men) who are part of this movement are smart religious activists and it’s an inspiring community indeed. What happened today is emblematic of their commitment to bringing more and more equity to the lives of religious Jewish women and in the process they are building a remarkable constituency and setting an amazing example for women (and men )from six to sixty and beyond.