LIFE – Page 29 – Don't Gel Too Soon

PETE SEEGER, JOE HILL, MUSIC, VALUES , PAST AND FUTURE

I once had the opportunity to interview BB King. In preparation, I brought his latest album home and played it for my sons. The older, then around 5, asked me "Why is this man named King mommy. Pete Seeger is the king of music, right?*" Well, how do you answer that? Our boys grew up on the Weavers, the Almanac Singers, Pete and Arlo at Carnegie Hall… all rich with wonderful songs (with pretty wonderful values) for children. I asked my husband, no folkie, why he didn’t complain about the "noise" – and in fact joined us every Thanksgiving at Carnegie Hall to hear Pete and later Pete and Arlo. He said (I’m paraphrasing here) "It’s offering them something whole to believe in. Even if they don’t always believe it – they’ll understand the feeling of believing – and always seek it." As far as I can tell, that worked.

Rerack a few years though — to the Vietnam war, when songs like this informed some of my earliest political ideas.

In fact, Pete has been a hero of mine for more than 40 years (How is that possible?) As I sit watching the AMERICAN MASTERS documentary on his life, I can’t stop thinking about all the hope, idealism and dreams tied up in his music – at least in my life — and, for a time, the lives of my sons. Seeger always has believed that music has infinite power; his own music made us believe that we could bring about the world we dreamed of. I’m embarassed by how much I long for those feelings; it’s probably one reason Barack Obama and his young supporters interest me so much – they remind me of…. ME. Pretty feeble, isn’t it? To still be whining about long-lost days and dreams. Most of all, to feel such rage and sadness at what we weren’t able to do for our children; we leave them a world, in many ways, so much tougher than the one we inherited.

Pete, though, would hate such talk. I once met him, around the time that there were civil rights battles raging in the old Chicago Back of the Yards neighborhoods that Saul Alinsky helped to organize. I asked him if it didn’t bother him that the residents there revealed attitudes so contrary to what had been fought for — for them — just a generation ago. His response "No. When people are empowered they have the right to want what they want. If we believe in empowerment we have to accept that too." NOT a usual man, Mr. Seeger.

The music was more than a transmission of values though — from "A Hole in My Bucket" to Union Maid. It was our family soundtrack. One of my kids was watching WOODSTOCK while he was in college, and was astonished to hear Joan Baez singing Joe Hill – and to recognize it from when he was little (this is a bad YOUTUBE version; the proportions are off, but just listen..

In our house, that old labor song had been a lullaby. I’d learned it from Pete’s concerts. Recently, so many years from those lullabies, another family favorite presented us with a great, rolicking tribute to this remarkable man. I wanted to end with a more of this (way too) sentimental tribute to Pete, but the joy of watching another generation up out of their seats in song is probably a better way to end. Right?

*He went on to become an enormous BB King (and Albert, for that matter) fan, for the record.

BITCH IS THE NEW BLACK – WHAT DO WE THINK?

This is old now and all over the interweb PLUS all the feminist listservs that reach my mailbox. What’s the verdict? Funny? Post-Feminist? JUST funny? Too true to BE funny? Too funny to be true? Other? Check one (or more…)

BLOGGING BOOMERS CARNIVAL – FEBRUARY 25 2008

Sorry. On and off airplanes and in and out of timezones I forgot to post this week’s Carnival. And it’s at my good friend Wendy Spiegel’s GenPlus blog so I’m doubly sorry. Here it is now, though.

SHABBAT IN JERUSALEM – HATS – AND SHABBAT SHALOM

These two lovelies, Ruthie (R) and Naomi (L), run a wonderful hat shop on King George St. in Jerusalem (#14 if you want to stop by…) I met them last year and loved both the hats (if you live an observant life you wear a hat to services and many women wear them all or almost all the time) and the two of them. A women-owned, sister-run company, their shop is my favorite – partly because Ruthie works on the hats right there in front of us – but also because they are such a great story.

What better day than Shabbat to think about two wonderful women making us happy to wear our hats to shul? I took two friends with me when I went there this time and among us I think we bought five hats! Here’s mine:

A little stardust never hurt anyone, right? I really love it and am now going to have to demonstrate enormous discipline by waiting until spring to wear it. Let’s hear it for the girls, right? And Shabbat Shalom.

NOTE: this post was created Thursday night and set to be posted on Saturday morning. NO WORK on it was done on Shabbat.

AN ARTISTS’ COLONY, THE ORIGINAL HOLOCAUST MEMORIAL, THE CRAZY JERUSALEM MARKET AND 7 MILES ON MY PEDOMETER

This was a remarkable day. In the first place, according to my pedometer we’ve walked seven miles! Even more importantly, of course, was where we walked. Our first stop was an accident – wandering toward the Old City from our apartment we ended up in the lovely old neighborhood of Yemen Moshe. Symbolized by the windmill at the top of the hill upon which this old neighborhood is built, it has long been highly desirable and glamorous place to live – full of artists and intellectuals. Now there are also dozens of galleries and shops – but we just strolled around en route to the oldest parts of the city.
From there, we went into Old Jerusalem through the Zion Gate – a way we’d never been before, and explored the area around an old Armenian church, when suddenly we came upon this sign

At first we weren’t even sure it was for real — we’d certainly never heard of it and both of us are pretty well-schooled in Holocaust lore. As we drew closer, we were shocked to find a small entrance to an equally small courtyard offering the gateway to “The Chamber of the Holocaust” and this sign:

From there we moved into a small, cave-like room whose walls were covered with stone tablets, much like grave stones, dedicated to lost towns in the countries of the Shoah. Three rooms and an outdoor courtyard were covered with the “headstones” and all the rest of the exhibits were, old, faded, primitive and clearly created with love, outrage and very little money. Somehow, the very “scotch tape and cutouts” quality of the exhibits magnified the grief and determination of those who had created them. It was a remarkable moment in our day. Here are a couple more photos:

The “cave” with the headstones to lost cities and towns.

One of several walls of photo- graphs of lost souls. There are more, but this is enough. Lots of other things happened today but this is where I want to leave things. I’ll try one more post before Shabbat but if I don’t make it, I’ll catch us up on Saturday night.

Here’s just one preview though – of Jerusalem’s favorite market – Machene Yehuda. Good night for now.

JERUSALEM, THE WALL, AND THE SEPARATION OF WOMEN AND MEN

Early this morning, in a gray, chilly rain, around ten of us went to the Western Wall (the Kotel) to say morning prayers. It’s always very moving (and sometimes upsetting) to go to the Kotel. I’ve been there in summer and fall, alone, with our kids and with groups, to a bar mitzvah and a paratrooper regiment induction (all Israeli military take their oaths there), when I was first pregnant 30+ years ago, and placed a prayer for our new child’s health into one of the cracks, and countless other times. One thing remains true. There’s the
really big men’s side….

and the really small and usually (though not today) ridiculously crowded women’s side. Surprisingly, the separation, like that in the synagogue, doesn’t bother me. If I were a young mother whose sons and husband were sitting together while I sat alone, I might feel differently but for some reason I like being with my "sisters" on the women’s side, not worrying about the spiritual condition of anyone but myself. It’s peaceful.

Of course, in all parts of observant Judaism there’s an undertone of the perplexing – why must women and men be apart for so many of life’s critical moments? Some of the rules, however they are justified, are difficult and I’m struggling to be available to understand them. The toughest right now, because we’ve just been learning it, are the Laws of Family Purity and the physical separation of husband and wife any time there is a presence, or recent presence, of menstrual blood. It’s confusing enough dealing with periods, and the "clean" days after one’s period ends, which must pass before any kind of physical contact (not just sex) is permitted. Of course rules like these are observed to different degrees by different couples. Some make token acknowledgment of the requirements. Some sleep in separate beds. Some don’t sit on the same couch if there is only one cushion. SOME won’t even pass a bottle of milk from one hand to the other but place the bottle on the table for the other to retrieve. OK. That’s a choice – it all comes from brief mentions in the Torah, this is how it’s been interpreted and it’s so private that each couple finds its own way of living within the law. Women also find their own ways of dealing with what could seem a real stigma. One of my favorite teachers says it’s a time to "reclaim one’s body for oneself" and further, that the physical restrictions cause couples to deal more openly in verbal terms with many of life’s issues, because physical contact isn’t part of the equation. I just listen and work to be open-minded – I have learned that much about this world into which I’ve moved becomes intelligible over time – and not to condemn that which I haven’t had a chance to absorb.

Even more confusing and the hardest of all, for me, are the rules of childbirth and miscarriage. Because we bleed after childbirth, once we are free of birth pains and no longer in distress, in many families the husband does not touch his wife again after that initial support during birth, until the bleeding stops. One rabbi’s rule: "Help physically as much as you need to during labor – but the minute the baby is born – no more." Others say that a post-partum woman is still "sick" so deserving of as much love and affection as she requires. The same divisions exist after a miscarriage. The bleeding preempts physical contact once the initial trauma is over. This is tough stuff. (There’s also lots to say about the Mikvah – a ritual bath married women visit before resuming sexual relations after periods or childbirth. I learned an enormous amount about that today from a generous young, newly-married friend who’s also on this trip. But I think it’s another post altogether. I acknowledge that here so you don’t think I’ve omitted it altogether.)

I have waited over a week since our class about this before I posted, in order to allow myself time to think about it. I’ve brought myself to a position of tolerance and acceptance; those who believe that this is the way God wants us to live, or believe that these are God’s laws which cannot be broken no matter how we feel — these loving souls should "live and be well" within the life’s rules they’ve chosen. I’m through with condemnations of everything I don’t agree with. I used to think so many things — things that this life has taught me were just ONE WAY of seeing the world. I’m working on reaching that attitude toward these rules of "family purity."

They arise today because of this trip to the Kotel – just one more separation — that placed this new family information in sharp relief. I’ve been troubled by it – probably always will be. But I consider it real growth that I’m working to understand, not deride, these ideas. What better place to do that than in this holy city?

LEAVIN’ ON A JET PLANE – ISRAEL AGAIN

Tomorrow – Sunday afternoon – we leave again for Israel. I’m amazed that we’re returning so soon and will be curious to see how it feels to be with a group instead of just the two of us. Last time was so perfect; that always makes me nervous – it’s not good to try to recreate perfection so we have to just allow this trip to evolve as its own.

We’re staying in a beautiful apartment in a great neighborhood and have great plans – I promise to keep you posted here.

DECLARE YOURSELF: VOTE. IT’S THE LEAST YOU CAN DO!

My good buddy Jenn Satterwhite posted this last week and although it’s a little nerdy, it’s kind of cute. At least it’s fun – especially if you’re my age and used to have to watch films like this for real. It comes from an organization called Declare Yourself. Aimed at 18-year-olds, it reaches out through these online PSAs and other tools to engage younger people in voting. Sponsors range from Yahoo to Clear Channel to Starbucks. I don’t know how they’re doing, but the videos are fun. There’s one here and more on the site. Enjoy yourself.

TIME PASSES: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO A LONG-TIME FRIEND

Saturday night we went to an 80th birthday party. It was for someone whose 43rd we’d also attended — a long time to know someone. He’s a wonderful man with a wonderful family, and you would know his name if I wrote it here – but it was his party not mine and somehow it feels intrusive to tell you who he is.

When I was first in the news business, he taught me a great deal. Ever courtly and generous, excellent at what he did, he shared so much of what he knew and felt about news, politics, government and life. With humor. And a gentle sense of irony. I wish I could communicate how thrilling it was to wander through the tunnels under the Senate, past the secret offices where senators met for gumbo and whiskey, around the corner called "coffin corner" because when the dead lay in state, the coffin had to be tipped vertically to get around the corner on its way to the Rotunda that was its destination — with this gifted man as my guide.

All his kids were at the party of course, along with their spouses and a ton of grandchildren. All four kids were younger than these grandkids when they attended our wedding. There were (very short and funny) speeches, lots of teasing, and not an ounce of pretense or artifice. Of course, the fact that all of them were so happy to see me after our long sojourn in California and year on separate paths, made me feel great. Even so, the great gift of this evening was that I didn’t even think of that until later. When you share so much of life, and work, affection and high regard with someone, you have the luxury of honoring them without obsessing about what it all means to you. That should tell you more about him than anything.

JEWISH SEX, HONOR AND HOLINESS

Sex and religion have always seemed at odds. Stories of sexual impulsivity have been with us forever – King David and Batsheva , Anna Karenina, , Atonement , Prince Charles, presidents, senators, preachers and ball players. So it’s not surprising that human beings struggle to maintain heavy sexual controls within the rules of faith. Any faith.

In a class this week though, we studied the unique textual perspective toward sex within Judaism. The great teacher Laura Shaw Frank, about whom I’ve written before, returned for four weeks to teach the Orthodox "Laws of Family Purity" — an unfortunate term since, for me at least, the first association I make when I hear "family purity" is "racial purity." But never mind, that’s another
conversation.

There are complicated laws concerning marital relations, menstruation and other issues within the intimacies of marriage and we will study them for the next three weeks. Last night though, we began at the beginning. What do Jewish texts tell us about the place of sex in a Jewish life?

The premise: that sex, within Jewish life, is part of the holiness of families, and serves to hold families, and traditions, together. "How can we say the "evil inclination" (sex drive) is very good? It is to teach us that if there were no evil inclination, a man would not build a home for himself, and wouldn’t marry a woman and wouldn’t beget children.*" The bottom line appears to be that honor, decency and institutional preservation depend upon sexual desire – which in turn, in those working to control it within themselves, leads to the creation of and adherence to civilization, marriage and family.

Beyond that, these connections must work on three levels — the interpersonal, between man and woman (or man/man or woman/woman, but not then), the cosmic – with God – and historic – with all of the Jewish people. Always, sex is meant to allow us to honor one another and therefore honor God. Throughout the class I kept thinking of this — it seems to sum it all up. A young soldier, leaving for war, trying to explain his departure to his beloved. It’s going to be interesting to see how all of this supports some of the more unusual Orthodox rules of physical intimacy. Stay tuned.

To Lucasta, Going off to the Wars
Richard Lovelace
(1618-1658)

Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind,
That from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind
To war and arms I fly.
True, a new mistress now I chase,
The first foe in the field;
And with a stronger faith embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.

Yet this inconstancy is such
As thou too shalt adore;
I could not love thee, Dear, so much,
Loved I not Honour more.

*Kohelet Rabba 3:16