WEDDINGS, WITCHES AND JEWISH LIFE

Cropped_chuppa_bride_and_groomWeddings are life markers – milestones on a singular journey.  Every time, just like today, the two whose lives are joined know that their wedding is the most meaningful, the most special, of all.  Every time, just like today, their family and friends smile and sigh, nod knowingly or watch in wonder.  Most times, just like today, there is feasting and dancing, laughing and crying,  present and past.

The couple in this picture are grownups with jobs, a just-completed dissertation and a real sense of wonder that they found one another and managed to make their way to this day.  They planned the wedding, designed the exquisite chuppah (wedding canopy) that has been part of Jewish marriage for centuries, and worked to make the day special in every way (they succeeded.) 

This is the third wedding I’ve attended this year and the third traditional observant Jewish wedding ever.  That’s very unusual for someone my age but we’re blessed with friends who have made us part of their extended family and asked us to share these blessed days with them.  Today, for the third time in a year I watched a groom led to his bride by a swarm of singing, dancing men; I’ve watched him lower the veil over the face of the woman he now knew for sure was his beloved.  (Jacob was duped and married the wrong sister; at least 600 years old, this tradition evokes that story and acknowledges its power.)  When I first learned of it it sounded barbaric to me.  Men taking possession of property, I thought.  Check out the goods.

Somehow though, in the years I’ve spent moving toward an observant life, it’s come to mean something quite different: a reverent bow to the centrality of a sound life partnership – not for everyone but certainly  for those who choose to marry.  Marriage is not just the economic and legal partnership so often described in political conversation, it’s an ancient entity with real resonance and a gigantic role in the preservation of a humane, loving and sometimes sacred society. It requires tradition carried on; it requires the presence of ceremony and ritual to link it to the couples of past generations. 

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On my favorite guilty pleasure, Charmed, rituals of birth and marriage are attended not only by those who share the lives and loves of the Halliwell sisters (yeah they’re witches and their story spent 8 TV seasons enchanting us all) but also by those who came before.  They summon, "through space and time"  all members of "the Halliwell line."  Surrounded by these transluscent figures of past generations, today’s Halliwells celebrate marriages and new arrivals.  Those fully and those ephemerally present conclude together "blessed be."

What does this have to do with Jewish weddings — or any other terrestrial weddings for that matter?  A lot.  Eight years on the air, the longest running show with female leads, it dealt often with travel through time and space and dominions never imagined.  But when really important events arose, all the magic was supplanted by a single, simple spell that basically –well — brought the family together.  For them it was across ghostly generations…it was a show about witches after all.  But that really is what weddings do, and in my limited experience, the weddings of observant Jews are events with special power because they consider a wedding the "creation of a home" where Jewish life will be lived and celebrated.  "Home" is represented by the wedding canopy, or "chuppah" under which the bride and groom marry, surrounded by loved ones of prior and subsequent generation:  grandparents and parents, aunts and brothers, sisters and nephews. 

This particular chuppah was built from branches rescued from a clearing near Boston and covered by a tablecloth that had belonged to the bride’s grandmother, who had died the year before.   My husband’s and mine was covered by the prayer shawls of our grandfathers – mine near death and too frail to attend, his gone just a couple of years before.  Again, instinctively, we, like this bride, sought connections over time. 

I"m not saying this well but what I think is that we’re hardwired to want to be part of something "larger than ourselves" and faith and family are that something.  For observant Jews, these connections are manifested throughout the ceremony and the traditions surrounding it.  That timeless ritual and all that surrounds it bring the gift of place and meaning – the reminder that as we celebrate a marriage we join the circle once more, honoring all that has been given us and accepting the responsibility to pass it on.

BONNIE AND CLYDE, VIOLENCE AND TIME PASSING

Bonnie_and_clydeLast Sunday the New York Times reminded us that Bonnie and Clyde, a film seared behind the eyelids of people like me, is 40 years old.  I remember it particularly because just after I saw it, I went to a 21st birthday dinner for a friend at her uncle’s home on Park Avenue in Manhattan.  I was new to such places then, and, despite my anti-war lefty politics, both thrilled and intimidated – particularly because her uncle was a writer of some renown.  For a college senior, it was another experience milestone.

Along with most of adult America, our host had been appalled at the violence of the film.  We, on the other hand, argued that the film was an accurate metaphor for the violence in Vietnam; a social comment that spoke deeply to all of us.  The argument was long, fierce and audacious — and, of course, unresolved.  I haven’t seen the film in many years and am curious how I would react.

I’ve become a lot more sensitive to visual violence as I’ve raised my sons.  Beverly Hills Cop was released when my younger son was five.  His big brother was nine and really wanted to see it; since we hated leaving Dan behind, he came too.  Do you remember the ending?  It was a gun battle too but multiples more gory and violent than Bonnie and Clyde ever dreamt of being.  The worst part?  My son was upset, yes, but the audience barely reacted – and many cheered.  Film and TV violence in the years between 1967 and 1984 had escalated slowly, right in front of us – and we had barely noticed.  That progression has continued.

It’s a creepy dilemma. I’m a true romantic who revels in love stories like Bull Durham (1988) and  Shakespeare in Love (1998), oldies like Now, Voyager (1942) and two I’ve written about before, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947)and Rebbecca (1940) as well as decade-old satires like Wag the Dog (1997)and Warren Beatty’s (aka Clyde’s) masterpiece Bulworth (1998).  But another of my favorite films is Pulp Fiction (1994)- steeped in violence, much of it random.  Silence of the Lambs, too.  And of course, The Godfather Trilogy (1972, 1974, 1990)   None of these, and other more "realistically violent" films, would have been possible before  Arthur Penn brought Bonnie and Clyde to life.

My protective instincts as a mother and activist clash with my respect for the vision of the artist and the gifts those visions can bring to the rest of us.  This isn’t a new conversation of course, any more than it was new in 1967.  It’s been going on as long as artists have.  What’s different this time is that I was a kid when Bonnie and Clyde slammed into our lives; now I’m at least the age of that angry uncle.  I know a lot more and that colors how I look at things I don’t know.

I named this blog Don’t Gel Too Soon because I struggle to stay open – available to understand, to appreciate, that which comes next, and to remember that no matter how lovely the lovely there’s more to life than that.  And that, after all, if someone doesn’t help us to see it, we can’t join together to change it.

The 50s, TV, The Company and The Hungarian Uprising

Characters_nemeth1I was ten in 1956, when the people of Hungary rose up to end the Russian occupation.  It was a rout – and they remained under Communist domination until the fall of the Berlin Wall.  It’s difficult to explain now just how scary it was to hear of these heroic people crushed in the streets, and, for a child, difficult to place.  Could it happen to me?  To my family?  How did the Russians get there?  Why did they care what people did in Hungary?

A couple of years later a local church group sponsored a Hungarian family’s move to the US and their son, our age and pretty good at speaking English, came to dinner at the home of my friend Lois and spoke to a group of us – maybe it was our Girl Scout troop; maybe just a bunch of girlfriends – I’m not sure.  He was dramatic and dignified and so happy to be there.  Listening to him and the stories of those he’d left behind was a haunting experience – especially in the mind of a romantic politicized 13 year old mad for JFK.

I hadn’t thought about any of this in years, but this summer TNT brings us The Company – a history of the CIA — and of the Hungarian tragedy of 1956.  From the perspective of 50 years it’s still so sad, even through the gauze of TV melodrama – and the freedom and prosperity of Hungary today doesn’t mitigate much.

I’ve kept my eye on what happened in the East since then.  We took our kids through Czechoslovakia and East Germany while they were still behind the Iron Curtain.  We couldn’t get the boys dry socks after a heavy rain because, as the storekeeper told us “we don’t have socks today.”  We gave all our Bruce Springsteen tapes to our guide; each one would have cost him a month’s pay on the black market.

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I’ve even been to Pottsdam. That photo on the left is the bridge where spies were exchanged during the days of the Cold War.  So it’s not like I don’t know what happened historically.  Once in a while though the recreation of reality, even with Hollywood gloss, slams me back where I was for a little while.

That’s all – I’ve been sitting here trying to think of a real ending for this – and I can’t — no massive summary available.  Good night.

BACK TO MANDERLAY WITH REBECCA AND JANE EYRE

Rebecca_poster OK so this movie was made in 1940 — way before I was even born!  I read the book in 9th or 10th grade and saw the movie a couple of times late a night and probably with my sisters, pretzels and mustard.  And commercials.  Even so it had a profound effect on me then – and, apparently, now.

It’s on TCM — I usually have the TV on when I’m working.  But I keep having to go back and forth between Rebecca and Angel – ANgel for God’s sake! — because it’s just about unbearable.  This poor girl (she doesn’t even get a name – just "the second Mrs. deWinter) is a mouse – pathetic and scared.  Everything she does is a mistake.  Right now she’s begging her new husband for a costume ball like the ones Rebecca used to hold — I had to turn it off.  I know she’s going to wear Rebecca’s costume — know what will happen – and I, of course, unlike Joan Fontaine, know the truth about the witchy, Rebecca herself.  I can still see the flames — oh but I don’t want to tell you the ending — maybe you’ll see it yourself some day with your stomach in your mouth in mortification for this poor girl.

Jane_eyre_wellesAs I was writing this I realized that there’s another romantic tale — from a Bronte 100 years earlier – where the ending involves a fire; it’s another book I loved – made into a film – Jane EyreWikipedia says there were 5 silent film versions and have been 10 film versions (they count Rebecca in that – apparently it was a "tribute" based on Jane Eyre so I guess this comparison isn’t very original, alas) and 7 TV versions. Another mousy dreamer – another poor girl making her own way (maybe with more of a spine though), another strong, angry man with a deep painful secret.  How embarrassing that I still love both stories – remember where I sat when I first read each book and can’t quite avoid either film when it pops up on TV. 

Rebecca may not have – as Maxim deWinter so desperately feared – "won in the end" but her successor – and Jane – won my heart long ago and I guess there’s no point in fighting it.  Always, always, the phrase "last night I dreamed I went to Manderlay again" will strike images and memories of my days as a dreamy girl whose literary journeys to great but unhappy mansions and great but horribly haunted love affairs were such perfect gifts.

BACK TO THE FUTURE

Cindy_dunbarton_oaks_1969 Some picture, huh?

Yesterday a friend who is writing a book about the TV news business in the 60’s and 70’s asked me for some photos from the time we worked together.  As I went through old albums and pulled out the few I had, I found this one.  I remember the day it was taken – a sunny spring Sunday in Washington in a public garden.  Newly out of college, newly employed, newly in possession of a Nikon, I’d gone with a friend to take photos of all things lovely.  She took this one of me.  (note to all curly haired people – this look was achieved by sleeping with hair wrapped around orange juice cans!) 

Almost 40 years later, I am surprised that I look at this with pleasure, not sadness.  I expected the familiar "ah I looked so much better then – so much was ahead of me" stuff but found none. 

I’m sure something is still there – I got kind of weepy going through the books and seeing family photos from when the boys were little – so much time gone by.  But that’s nostalgia for the joy that comes from wonderful children and the memories lucky families build.  But this photo – no pangs at all. 

Nope.  I was a lucky girl.  I had more adventures by the time I was 25 than many people get in a lifetime and I’m still having them.  So there she is – the weekend me from the beginning of my grown-up life, young and happy in the sunshine.   

BARACK, RUSH AND HATE BEYOND HATE

You aren’t going to believe this!  The fact that this aired on a "mainstream" program –albeit Rush Limbaugh, is, indeed, beyond belief.

The viciousness of it, and the fact that Limbaugh remains so popular, is very scary. Inspired by my friend Cooper Munroe, who posts her outrages, I offer it here. If it won’t play (I am NOT quite clever at the relationship between TypePad and YouTube) here’s the link.

CALLING ALL NEWS JUNKIES

Jibjab_news It’s almost Shabbat and I only have a second but if you’re hanging around the web this weekend don’t miss this.  It’s the newest Jib Jab video and will tell you all you need to know about why I went from TV to the web.  Happy Passover!   

HILLARY, THE TONKIN GULF AND 1984

Hilary_video OK, those folks who run TypePad and YouTube haven’t found a way to add this blog host to automatic video posting so I’m hooking a link in right here  so you can watch this.  I can’t decide what I think – it’s funny and clever and a perfect definition of a mashup but it’s also mean and off-mark.  While many, including many feminists, have issues with Senator Clinton – this 1984/Apple Commercial version isn’t representative of most of them.  Accusations of opportunism and flabbiness on the war are not the same as totalitarianism.  True, she voted for the Patriot Act, but so did all but two Senators – and one of them didn’t vote at all! 

Now, I remind myself – we still remember who voted against the Tonkin Gulf Resolution (Senators Wayne Morse of Oregon and Ernest Gruening of Alaska) and that was in 1964 so maybe this vote will last too.  Anyway, I don’t know where I’ll land politically this year – I’m really just thinking about the power of the kinds of media manipulation (in the technical sense) that are possible today.  How will we ever help newer voters figure out how to determine the truth?  Are they so much more evolved than we are in a media sense that we needn’t worry, or is the dismal lack of critical thinking work in current No Child Left Behind education going to affect how people think in the voting booth as well as our educational standing in the world?

Thoughts?

HOW ELSE WOULD I GET TO JOHN MELLENKAMP’S HOUSE?

Rona_cindy_mellenkamp February 22nd is Rona Elliot’s birthday.  She’s the one in the red dress next to John Mellenkamp – I’m the one on the right in the weird shirt.  The woman in the middle is Kathy Schenker, a wonderful person who was then his publicist.  We were in Bloomington Indiana, at Mellenkamp’s house (honest!) to interview him about his new album (I think they were still albums then.)

This kind of adventure is what Rona has brought into my life, along with a deep abiding friendship and a sense of respect for her that I feel for few others.  She is courageous, funny, smart, cool, great, did I say smart?, and the best production partner I ever had.  We both worked for the TODAY SHOW.  In 1988 I was told I wasn’t assigned to cover the New Hampshire primary and was really – really – upset.  Rona laughed – "I have something so much better for you", she said.  And she did. 

We went to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction in Manhattan.  Bruce Springsteen inducted Bob Dylan, Elton John inducted the Drifters.  Also honored and present, the three surviving Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Beach Boys and more.  AND they all sang together.  AND we stayed up all night and cut a piece about it for the show.  A good one.  I don’t think I have had many experiences that were that thrilling – professionally or as an audience member.  But what’s really important about it is that that sort of joyous event — and the desire to share it — is part of the package that is Rona.

A friend for all seasons, she never forgets or loses someone she loves — and believe me when she’s in your life you’re glad she’s there. Not just for Rock and Roll shows (although we’ve shared many amazing times) but also for giving my kids "I Love Heavy Metal" shirts to "scare your mom" and volunteering at an orphanage and being a spectacular mother and wife and always open to new ideas and experiences every moment she’s alive. I’m so so grateful to share the brief times in our life that are still available in our coast-to-coast lives.  That night we saw Bruce Springsteen induct Bob Dylan into the Hall of Fame, he ended by saying – "and to quote one of your songs, ‘You was the brother that I never had.’"   Well I have two wonderful sisters but Rona – you’re the other amazing — as you call it — sistah — that I’m glad I have.  Happy Birthday.

TV GRIPES – HAVEN’T YOU HEARD?

Kids_watch_tvThis morning, as I’ve been writing, I’ve been watching a re-airing of a conference on children’s media called Beyond Prime Time, airing on C-SPAN.  Leaders of the FCC, broadcasting and mega-consolidated companies as well as kids’ advocates meeting yet again to talk about all the dangers, risks and difficulties of rearing children in the media-saturated world.  It is horrifying to think about some of the things kids see in the afternoon and early evening, from Jerry Springer to ads for horror movies to news promos "fire kills four children in the Bronx."  And that doesn’t even count the just plain trashy programming designed with kids in mind.  Or the sexism, violence, overt sexuality and generally demented stuff that passes for entertainment. 

I worked most of my life in TV news and loved what we were able to offer.  Today most news cares more about Anna Nicole Smith than riots in the streets of Jerusalem; more about missing coeds than cuts in the loans that get kids to college in the first place.  And that doesn’t count what airs in the entertainment venue. 

The thing is, I don’t think Americans require the ridiculous material polluting early TV hours.  Polls too consistently demonstrate a parental desperation about media; in my experience the lowering of standards emerges from taking the line of least Resistance – the safest, ickiest material.  The Jordan McDeere character on Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip turned down garbage and almost lost her job; now she’s in a fight to the death with a new, reality programming exec.  Unlike The West Wing, Aaron Sorkin isn’t going to let us pretend things are better in the TV version in this show.

None of this is new, I guess, but it just kills me that we are still having these conferences and there is still garbage all over the air.  And the cavalier attitude regulators have shown toward the media consolidation that makes these things so tough to resist hasn’t been any help either. They spend hours trashing the media but won’t take the hard positions to make things better.

There is probably not ONE original thought in this whole post but I feel better.