Canon XSi, 100mm macro lens, f/7.1, 1/100 second.
As always, comments, critiques and criticisms are welcome, encouraged and appreciated.
The Wolf
To see all of my photo posts, click here.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Photos: Macro: Pink Azalea Blossoms
I took this one with my macro lens two weeks ago. There is a shul in my neighborhood with a beautiful azalea bush growing in the yard. So, I snapped on my macro lens and fired away. Here was the result:
Canon XSi, 100mm macro lens, f/7.1, 1/100 second.
As always, comments, critiques and criticisms are welcome, encouraged and appreciated.
The Wolf
To see all of my photo posts, click here.
Canon XSi, 100mm macro lens, f/7.1, 1/100 second.
As always, comments, critiques and criticisms are welcome, encouraged and appreciated.
The Wolf
To see all of my photo posts, click here.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Leggings Under A Skirt Is Not Tznius?
Perhaps someone can explain this to me.
A friend of Eeees recently received a letter from her kids' school. In short the letter said that it was a violation of tznius rules for a woman to wear leggings under her skirt (even if the skirt is of the proper length).
For the life of me, I can't figure this out. How are leggings any worse than tights? On the contrary, I would think that leggings are better than tights since it is less form-fitting on the exposed lower leg.
Can anyone please explain the logic of this to me?
The Wolf
A friend of Eeees recently received a letter from her kids' school. In short the letter said that it was a violation of tznius rules for a woman to wear leggings under her skirt (even if the skirt is of the proper length).
For the life of me, I can't figure this out. How are leggings any worse than tights? On the contrary, I would think that leggings are better than tights since it is less form-fitting on the exposed lower leg.
Can anyone please explain the logic of this to me?
The Wolf
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Photos: Tulip and Sky
I took this shot while walking around my neighborhood this past Sunday. I happen to enjoy taking pictures of flowers. However, at the end of the day, a rose is a rose is a rose -- we've all seen flowers before and we're all familiar with the more common types.
The question then becomes, how do you make a picture of a common flower (such as a tulip) more interesting?
One way to do it is to take the picture from an angle that we don't often see. More than 99% of the times that we see tulips, we see them from the top or the side. We don't however, look at the from bottom up. Since we don't often see them that way, that's the angle I chose for my photograph. I laid down on the ground beside the tulip and shot the picture.
Canon XSi, 100mm macro lens, f/2.8, 1/2000
As always, comments criticisms and critiques are welcome, encouraged and appreciated.
The Wolf
See all my photo posts here.
The question then becomes, how do you make a picture of a common flower (such as a tulip) more interesting?
One way to do it is to take the picture from an angle that we don't often see. More than 99% of the times that we see tulips, we see them from the top or the side. We don't however, look at the from bottom up. Since we don't often see them that way, that's the angle I chose for my photograph. I laid down on the ground beside the tulip and shot the picture.
Canon XSi, 100mm macro lens, f/2.8, 1/2000
As always, comments criticisms and critiques are welcome, encouraged and appreciated.
The Wolf
See all my photo posts here.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
I Don't Know What's Scarier...
... the thoughts penned in this Matzav.com letter, or the number of people who commented to say that they feel the same way.
The Wolf
The Wolf
Monday, April 19, 2010
The Wolf Responds: Shidduch Woes
A letter appeared on Matzav.com from a young woman (pen named "A Crying Bas Yisroel" at the "ripe old" age of 23 who, sadly, has not yet found her husband. She's kind, well-put-together, cute and pretty (by her own description) and gainfully employed. So, what's the problem? According to her, the problem lies in factors beyond her control:
My parents don’t have money and we don’t have yichus. We don’t have “pull” and we don’t have connections. So with all my maalos, I am told that I am just like thousands of other girls. And so the phone does not ring.
My mother pursues shidduchim, only to get flat-out nos. I have been out with a handful of boys in four years of being in shidduchim. Think that’s nuts? Ask around. It’s not. That’s the lot that we’ve been given. We, girls, try so hard, doing everything we are supposed to in life, only to have to sit around, never knowing if our shidduch will ever come.
Personally, I think it's a shame that there are segments of our society that are so caught up in money and yichus for potential marriage partners that they don't look at the individual person.
You can read the entire letter on Matzav. I penned my own response:
Dear Crying,
I am so sorry that the Shidduch world has not treated you well. I hope that you find your bashert soon. No one deserves to be treated as you have been.
That being said, I think you need to take three important steps.
1. Drop the notion that 23 is old. It's not. There are plenty of women who got married later than 23 and went on tho have successful and loving marriages. 23 is not old -- despite the fact that some people may try to convince you otherwise.
2. Consider yourself lucky. I know it may not seem that way, but you are. You have just managed to avoid a bunch of jerks who are interested only in money or yichus. Tell me -- do you want a spouse who appreciates you for who you are, or for who your ancestors were and how much money your parents have? Based on your letter, you sound like the former. That being the case, congratulations -- you managed to avoid a bunch of people looking for the latter. I know it may be a small comfort to you, but it is an important fact to consider.
3. You have to stop being reactive and begin being proactive. Stop waiting for the phone to ring -- take matters into your own hands. This may mean stepping out of your comfort zone. It may mean actively networking with friends and their husbands/relatives. It may mean using an online dating site, as another poster here recommended. It may mean going to singles events. In short, you have to maximize your opportunity to meet people -- both men and people who can introduce you to them.
Good luck on your journey and may you soon find yourself building a bayis ne'eman b'yisroel.
The Wolf
My parents don’t have money and we don’t have yichus. We don’t have “pull” and we don’t have connections. So with all my maalos, I am told that I am just like thousands of other girls. And so the phone does not ring.
My mother pursues shidduchim, only to get flat-out nos. I have been out with a handful of boys in four years of being in shidduchim. Think that’s nuts? Ask around. It’s not. That’s the lot that we’ve been given. We, girls, try so hard, doing everything we are supposed to in life, only to have to sit around, never knowing if our shidduch will ever come.
Personally, I think it's a shame that there are segments of our society that are so caught up in money and yichus for potential marriage partners that they don't look at the individual person.
You can read the entire letter on Matzav. I penned my own response:
Dear Crying,
I am so sorry that the Shidduch world has not treated you well. I hope that you find your bashert soon. No one deserves to be treated as you have been.
That being said, I think you need to take three important steps.
1. Drop the notion that 23 is old. It's not. There are plenty of women who got married later than 23 and went on tho have successful and loving marriages. 23 is not old -- despite the fact that some people may try to convince you otherwise.
2. Consider yourself lucky. I know it may not seem that way, but you are. You have just managed to avoid a bunch of jerks who are interested only in money or yichus. Tell me -- do you want a spouse who appreciates you for who you are, or for who your ancestors were and how much money your parents have? Based on your letter, you sound like the former. That being the case, congratulations -- you managed to avoid a bunch of people looking for the latter. I know it may be a small comfort to you, but it is an important fact to consider.
3. You have to stop being reactive and begin being proactive. Stop waiting for the phone to ring -- take matters into your own hands. This may mean stepping out of your comfort zone. It may mean actively networking with friends and their husbands/relatives. It may mean using an online dating site, as another poster here recommended. It may mean going to singles events. In short, you have to maximize your opportunity to meet people -- both men and people who can introduce you to them.
Good luck on your journey and may you soon find yourself building a bayis ne'eman b'yisroel.
The Wolf
Friday, April 09, 2010
MK Gafni on Poverty: Going To Work Solves Nothing; That's All Nonsense
A rather incredible article appeared on the Dei'ah veDibur site this week entitled Bank of Israel: Entering Workforce Does Not Ensure Escape from Poverty. The article tries to make the case that, for chareidim in Israel, leaving welfare is a bad thing and that families that do leave welfare do not end up better off financially.
The article quotes MK Rabbi Moshe Gafni (the Knesset Finance Committee Chairman) who states:
"The country is lying to its citizens. Once again it has been shown that leaving the ranks of welfare recipients and joining the job market does not change the situation and people who work very hard for their living are unable to make ends meet."
He also goes on to say (emphasis mine):
"Emerging from the cycle of poverty requires an ability to get accepted to one of the positions that brings in tens and hundreds of thousands of shekels per month. Going to work solves nothing; that's all nonsense. In the State of Israel, today someone who wants to get out of the cycle of poverty has to network with the elites and the power centers just to get a decent salary that will really enable him to make a respectable living."
In other words, according to Rabbi Gafni, working is worthless. We're all better off just increasing welfare payments to people so that they can sustain themselves. I don't know if his comment that you need "tens and hundreds of thousands of shekels" of shekels per month to get out of poverty is accurate (it sounds high to me), but let's say, for the moment, that he's correct (given chareidi family sizes). Assuming a shekel is worth about a quarter (it's actually a bit more right now), that's the equivalent of saying that you need "twenty five hundreds to twenty five thousands dollars per month" to escape poverty. Of course, jobs paying twenty five grand a month are scarce... I don't have one, nor do the vast majority of people in the U.S. But what Rabbi Gafni is missing (or, IMHO, purposely avoiding) is that people on welfare, when they enter the workforce, generally start by talking entry-level jobs that are meant for unskilled workers. As their skills and experience increase, workers will be able to begin commanding higher salaries. When I started working, I was earning very, very little. However, now that I've been working for quite a few years and have invested in some training and education, I now command a much higher salary. Had I said, twenty years ago, that it doesn't pay to work because I can't get my present salary, I would have been an idiot. Very few people get to start at the top... most of us have to work our way up through the ranks, just like everyone else. That means you "pay your dues" by working for a while at low wages and then, with hard work, experience and a bit of Siyata D'Shmaya (Divine Providence), you will begin to earn better wages.
Of course, all this is predicated on one assumption -- that the person is employable and has job skills that he can bring to the market. Rabbi Gafni makes the following observation concerning the ability to earn a salary (again, emphasis mine):
"The problem is especially acute in the chareidi public. The state does not recognize the years of yeshiva and seminary study as it recognizes the years of study of its secular citizens. As a result both husband and wife who work earn paltry salaries, and are unable to extract the family from the cycle of poverty. On the other hand there are people earning as much as an entire neighborhood."
And here, Rabbi Gafni has the solution to the problem staring him in the face and he willfully chooses to ignore it. The problem, very simply, is education. When people are not educated with any skills (other than being a rebbe/teacher), there is little chance that they will be able to command a "good salary" when they enter the workforce. In order to command a "good salary," a worker has to be able to show that s/he will add at least that much value to the enterprise and have skills that differentiate him/herself from the other people seeking employment. Almost anyone off the street can answer a phone or man a cash register -- and so those jobs pay very little. On the other hand, since not everyone can hold the job of a skilled worker (be it computer programmer, plumber, doctor, etc.), people in those professions earn more.
In the ultimate of ironies, Rabbi Gafni even brings an example of a high earner and, instead of recognizing why the person has a high salary, he engages in petty envy. He states (once more, emphasis mine):
"We considered the possibility of setting up a ministerial committee to discuss the inconceivable wage gaps that exist in this country. We need a far-reaching change and a totally new attitude. There are enormous class gaps in this country that will turn into an existential social problem. The salary the CEO of Bank Mizrachi receives is enough to sustain a whole street in Bnei Brak. These class disparities have led to very difficult situations throughout history in all places, and it is imperative that the government comes to its senses on time."
I don't know who the CEO of Bank Mizrachi is, and I certainly don't know his salary or whether or not it can really sustain a street in Bnei Brak. But I do know this: he probably holds an MBA and/or an advanced degree in finance. He probably didn't walk in off the street on his first day of work and say "I want to be the CEO." He probably spent years working at less prestigious jobs, building up his experience. He probably put in a lot of hours over the years and earned the respect of his peers in the banking industry. He probably spent quite a bit of time networking professionally. In other words, the CEO of Bank Mizrachi earns a large salary because he has worked himself up to that point, not because it was magically given to him.
Rabbi Gafni looks at the CEO of Bank Mizrachi and purposely ignores the very reason for his success. Instead of crediting his education, skill and hard work, he says that you have to "network with the elites and the power centers" to get a decent job. As if anyone could get a CEO job (or any job that requires skills) just simply by knowing an "elite" or someone in a "power center." He purposely (IMHO) ignores the importance of education and job skills and says that it's better to simply sit back, give up on any chance for developing job skills and get a welfare check from the government.
I find it utterly ironic that Rabbi Gafni is complaining about poverty in the chareidi community when it's attitudes like his that are the chief reason for it. When school systems are purposely designed NOT to teach any job skills and the society is set up to actively discourage getting an education that will lead to such skills, there can be little doubt that the outcome will be continued poverty. In short, Rabbi Gafni is like someone who ensures that there are no firefighters and then complains when his house burns down and no one was there to put out the fire.
The Wolf
The article quotes MK Rabbi Moshe Gafni (the Knesset Finance Committee Chairman) who states:
"The country is lying to its citizens. Once again it has been shown that leaving the ranks of welfare recipients and joining the job market does not change the situation and people who work very hard for their living are unable to make ends meet."
He also goes on to say (emphasis mine):
"Emerging from the cycle of poverty requires an ability to get accepted to one of the positions that brings in tens and hundreds of thousands of shekels per month. Going to work solves nothing; that's all nonsense. In the State of Israel, today someone who wants to get out of the cycle of poverty has to network with the elites and the power centers just to get a decent salary that will really enable him to make a respectable living."
In other words, according to Rabbi Gafni, working is worthless. We're all better off just increasing welfare payments to people so that they can sustain themselves. I don't know if his comment that you need "tens and hundreds of thousands of shekels" of shekels per month to get out of poverty is accurate (it sounds high to me), but let's say, for the moment, that he's correct (given chareidi family sizes). Assuming a shekel is worth about a quarter (it's actually a bit more right now), that's the equivalent of saying that you need "twenty five hundreds to twenty five thousands dollars per month" to escape poverty. Of course, jobs paying twenty five grand a month are scarce... I don't have one, nor do the vast majority of people in the U.S. But what Rabbi Gafni is missing (or, IMHO, purposely avoiding) is that people on welfare, when they enter the workforce, generally start by talking entry-level jobs that are meant for unskilled workers. As their skills and experience increase, workers will be able to begin commanding higher salaries. When I started working, I was earning very, very little. However, now that I've been working for quite a few years and have invested in some training and education, I now command a much higher salary. Had I said, twenty years ago, that it doesn't pay to work because I can't get my present salary, I would have been an idiot. Very few people get to start at the top... most of us have to work our way up through the ranks, just like everyone else. That means you "pay your dues" by working for a while at low wages and then, with hard work, experience and a bit of Siyata D'Shmaya (Divine Providence), you will begin to earn better wages.
Of course, all this is predicated on one assumption -- that the person is employable and has job skills that he can bring to the market. Rabbi Gafni makes the following observation concerning the ability to earn a salary (again, emphasis mine):
"The problem is especially acute in the chareidi public. The state does not recognize the years of yeshiva and seminary study as it recognizes the years of study of its secular citizens. As a result both husband and wife who work earn paltry salaries, and are unable to extract the family from the cycle of poverty. On the other hand there are people earning as much as an entire neighborhood."
And here, Rabbi Gafni has the solution to the problem staring him in the face and he willfully chooses to ignore it. The problem, very simply, is education. When people are not educated with any skills (other than being a rebbe/teacher), there is little chance that they will be able to command a "good salary" when they enter the workforce. In order to command a "good salary," a worker has to be able to show that s/he will add at least that much value to the enterprise and have skills that differentiate him/herself from the other people seeking employment. Almost anyone off the street can answer a phone or man a cash register -- and so those jobs pay very little. On the other hand, since not everyone can hold the job of a skilled worker (be it computer programmer, plumber, doctor, etc.), people in those professions earn more.
In the ultimate of ironies, Rabbi Gafni even brings an example of a high earner and, instead of recognizing why the person has a high salary, he engages in petty envy. He states (once more, emphasis mine):
"We considered the possibility of setting up a ministerial committee to discuss the inconceivable wage gaps that exist in this country. We need a far-reaching change and a totally new attitude. There are enormous class gaps in this country that will turn into an existential social problem. The salary the CEO of Bank Mizrachi receives is enough to sustain a whole street in Bnei Brak. These class disparities have led to very difficult situations throughout history in all places, and it is imperative that the government comes to its senses on time."
I don't know who the CEO of Bank Mizrachi is, and I certainly don't know his salary or whether or not it can really sustain a street in Bnei Brak. But I do know this: he probably holds an MBA and/or an advanced degree in finance. He probably didn't walk in off the street on his first day of work and say "I want to be the CEO." He probably spent years working at less prestigious jobs, building up his experience. He probably put in a lot of hours over the years and earned the respect of his peers in the banking industry. He probably spent quite a bit of time networking professionally. In other words, the CEO of Bank Mizrachi earns a large salary because he has worked himself up to that point, not because it was magically given to him.
Rabbi Gafni looks at the CEO of Bank Mizrachi and purposely ignores the very reason for his success. Instead of crediting his education, skill and hard work, he says that you have to "network with the elites and the power centers" to get a decent job. As if anyone could get a CEO job (or any job that requires skills) just simply by knowing an "elite" or someone in a "power center." He purposely (IMHO) ignores the importance of education and job skills and says that it's better to simply sit back, give up on any chance for developing job skills and get a welfare check from the government.
I find it utterly ironic that Rabbi Gafni is complaining about poverty in the chareidi community when it's attitudes like his that are the chief reason for it. When school systems are purposely designed NOT to teach any job skills and the society is set up to actively discourage getting an education that will lead to such skills, there can be little doubt that the outcome will be continued poverty. In short, Rabbi Gafni is like someone who ensures that there are no firefighters and then complains when his house burns down and no one was there to put out the fire.
The Wolf
Friday, April 02, 2010
Photo: Sunset Over The Hudson
I took this shot last night as the sun was going down over New Jersey. I took it by Pier 42 (that's the crumbling pier in the picture) in Hudson River Park.
Canon XSi, 18-55mm lens at 18mm, f/5, 1/200 sec, circular polarizing filter.
As always, comments, critiques and criticisms are welcome, encouraged and appreciated.
The Wolf
To see all my photo posts, click here.
Canon XSi, 18-55mm lens at 18mm, f/5, 1/200 sec, circular polarizing filter.
As always, comments, critiques and criticisms are welcome, encouraged and appreciated.
The Wolf
To see all my photo posts, click here.
Thursday, April 01, 2010
How To End Some Torah/Science Disputes
During the meal at the second seder, the topic of discussion turned to astronomy. When the subject of the planets came up (specifically regarding the decision to "demote" Pluto), my fourteen year old niece, who tends toward the fundamentalist side, announced that the Torah says that there are only seven planets. When I mentioned to her that there were, in fact, more than seven planets, she simply repeated her assertion with a "that's-what-the-Torah-says-and-that's-that" tone.
I didn't press the point any further that evening, but as I thought about it the next day, I realized that my niece was both right and wrong. The problem, very simply, is that she and I were not using the same definition of the word "planet."
Allow me to give some historical background.
When the ancients studied the skies at night, they made some observations about the positions of the stars. They noticed that as the sky rotates overhead during the night (remember, they didn't know that it was the earth that was rotating), the stars in the sky moved, but kept their positions relative to each other. In addition, they kept their positions during the year as well -- a particular star could be counted on to disappear below the horizon at a certain time of the year and reappear at the same position (relative to the other stars) at a later point during the year.
However, there were seven heavenly bodies, they noted, that did not keep their positions. These planets "wandered" among the other stars -- sometimes moving forward against the other stars, sometimes regressing backwards (and sometimes displaying both behaviors at different times). These seven wanderers became the "planets," from the Greek word for wanderer. The seven bodies that displayed these properties were the Moon, Mercury, Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn.
Of course, as time went on, we gained a better understanding of the heavens than the ancients had. Copernicus showed that most of the "planets" actually revolved around the sun, not around the Earth. The sun was eventually identified as a star, one of the billions of stars in our galaxy. The word "planet" now no longer referred to the wanderers of the heavens, but to heavenly bodies (of significant size) that orbit the sun. In addition, with better optics than the ancients had at their disposal, we even discovered that most of the planets in our solar system had moons of their own. Better telescopes and observations have allowed us to find Uranus, Neptune, Pluto, Sedna and other minor ("dwarf") planets. And, of course, within the last fifteen years, we've gained the ability to detect planets orbiting other stars and have, to date, discovered 442 of them.
So, what is the true believer to do? If one believes that the Torah says that there are seven planets, and one wants to remain "Torah true," how does one reconcile the astronomy of the last few hundred years with the words of Chazal? Does one say that astronomy is a sham and that the data is faked? Does one say that the pictures NASA released from the Pioneer and Voyager missions are fakes? Does one say that the astronomers know the truth, but are simply faking it to suppress God's truth?
Well, you could take that approach -- although I think it's really very silly. The simple answer is also the best answer -- that when Chazal (or the Rishonim) talk about planets, they are referring to points of light that "wander" against the background sky. Using that definition, they are correct -- there are only seven* planets. But one has to recognize that the definition of the word "planet" has changed over the years and that when we discuss planets today, we are using a different definition of the term. As a result, it is also correct to say that there are well more than seven planets.
I often wonder how many Torah/science arguments could be avoided if we simply recognize that the meanings of words, including planet, species, bird, animal, star and even science among many others have had their definitions change over the years. Of course, not all Torah/science arguments would end -- but a fair number of them could be put to rest.
The Wolf
* Yes, I know Uranus is sometimes visible with the naked eye which would make eight planets -- but it's so infrequent and it's orbital period so long that it was probably just not noticed by the ancients. And, of course, this also excludes comets.
I didn't press the point any further that evening, but as I thought about it the next day, I realized that my niece was both right and wrong. The problem, very simply, is that she and I were not using the same definition of the word "planet."
Allow me to give some historical background.
When the ancients studied the skies at night, they made some observations about the positions of the stars. They noticed that as the sky rotates overhead during the night (remember, they didn't know that it was the earth that was rotating), the stars in the sky moved, but kept their positions relative to each other. In addition, they kept their positions during the year as well -- a particular star could be counted on to disappear below the horizon at a certain time of the year and reappear at the same position (relative to the other stars) at a later point during the year.
However, there were seven heavenly bodies, they noted, that did not keep their positions. These planets "wandered" among the other stars -- sometimes moving forward against the other stars, sometimes regressing backwards (and sometimes displaying both behaviors at different times). These seven wanderers became the "planets," from the Greek word for wanderer. The seven bodies that displayed these properties were the Moon, Mercury, Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn.
Of course, as time went on, we gained a better understanding of the heavens than the ancients had. Copernicus showed that most of the "planets" actually revolved around the sun, not around the Earth. The sun was eventually identified as a star, one of the billions of stars in our galaxy. The word "planet" now no longer referred to the wanderers of the heavens, but to heavenly bodies (of significant size) that orbit the sun. In addition, with better optics than the ancients had at their disposal, we even discovered that most of the planets in our solar system had moons of their own. Better telescopes and observations have allowed us to find Uranus, Neptune, Pluto, Sedna and other minor ("dwarf") planets. And, of course, within the last fifteen years, we've gained the ability to detect planets orbiting other stars and have, to date, discovered 442 of them.
So, what is the true believer to do? If one believes that the Torah says that there are seven planets, and one wants to remain "Torah true," how does one reconcile the astronomy of the last few hundred years with the words of Chazal? Does one say that astronomy is a sham and that the data is faked? Does one say that the pictures NASA released from the Pioneer and Voyager missions are fakes? Does one say that the astronomers know the truth, but are simply faking it to suppress God's truth?
Well, you could take that approach -- although I think it's really very silly. The simple answer is also the best answer -- that when Chazal (or the Rishonim) talk about planets, they are referring to points of light that "wander" against the background sky. Using that definition, they are correct -- there are only seven* planets. But one has to recognize that the definition of the word "planet" has changed over the years and that when we discuss planets today, we are using a different definition of the term. As a result, it is also correct to say that there are well more than seven planets.
I often wonder how many Torah/science arguments could be avoided if we simply recognize that the meanings of words, including planet, species, bird, animal, star and even science among many others have had their definitions change over the years. Of course, not all Torah/science arguments would end -- but a fair number of them could be put to rest.
The Wolf
* Yes, I know Uranus is sometimes visible with the naked eye which would make eight planets -- but it's so infrequent and it's orbital period so long that it was probably just not noticed by the ancients. And, of course, this also excludes comets.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Just Say No
An interesting letter appears in this week's Yated. A writer from Lakewood writes to complain how every time a cousin or someone else makes a simcha in Brooklyn, that the Lakewood residents are expected to travel the two to three hours (and incur the costs) that it takes to get to Brooklyn.
Dear Editor,
Since when did Lakewood become one of the five boroughs of New York City?
“Huh?” you want to ask me. “Who said it is?
Well, I’ll tell you who said it is. It seems, based on current custom, that for every event - wedding, bar mitzvah, bris, sheva brachos, etc. - held in Brooklyn or anywhere else in New York for that matter, those who live in Lakewood - young couples and older families as well - are expected to commute. I find that ridiculous.
Who decided that people should be traveling for at least 2-1/2 hours to attend every simcha of every cousin?
Besides for the shlep, how about the impossibility of getting a babysitter? Does anyone know how hard it is to find a babysitter?
And of course, the babysitter will take good money for her services, which she deserves.
Add the cost of gas and tolls, and basically, you have young couples, who live on shoestring budgets in the fi rst place, shlepping to New York at a cost of at least $65-70, to say mazel tov to their disinterested uncle and aunt at their cousin’s wedding, and barely get to eat a cold piece of halfbaked chicken if they even make it for the main course.
I am sorry, but this is not normal.
I know a yungerman who he has limited income. He is smart and careful about how he spends his money, and he and his wife get by okay, boruch Hashem. Recently, however, he told me that he had to travel in to New York for three simchos of cousins, at a cost - all in one month - of a total of over $300, which he cannot afford. (He learns in a paying night kollel and had to give up the money he receives as well.) And for what?
“At one simcha,” he told me, “the baal simcha (his relative) barely gave me the time of day as I wished him mazel tov. I imagine he realized who I am, but I wondered why I even came. But the reason why I traveled,” he said, “was because if we wouldn’t come, my parents, and especially grandparents, would be upset.
It has to stop. Couples who have young children, or even older children, cannot be expected to travel in to New York - or anywhere else that requires multiple hours of driving - for every simcha. It is not fair to the young couples, and it can potentially affect their wellbeing and their shalom bayis, not to mention their finances.
I would add that, similarly, those living in Brooklyn or anywhere else should likewise not be expected to travel for over an hour to Lakewood or any other place for a simcha of a non-immediate relative.
It is time we bring back sanity into our lives and put a stop to the unreasonable expectations and demands that we have allowed to become part of our culture.
Sincerely,
Y. Gordon
Here's my response:
Dear Y,
Thank you for your letter. I can certainly understand why you would be upset. Traveling a long distance to go to a simcha can be an arduous and sometimes expensive proposition. And, in this day and age when everyone's watching the purse strings, I definitely understand why you would be upset at having to shell out major money for what might turn out to be a mediocre night at best.
But there was one thing about your letter that left me a bit confused. Is there a police force in Lakewood that forces you go to affairs in Brooklyn and other far away places? I don't mean to be facetious, but I'm wondering why you simply cannot just say no.
I know that I love to go to family affairs. I go just about every opportunity that I can. But I also know that there are times that I simply cannot go. Sometimes it interferes with my work or school schedules. Other times it is just costs too much (financially) to go. And sometimes, it's just not practical -- maybe it's a work night and I know that I'm not going to be up to four hours of round-trip travel time. When this happens, I send the ba'alei simcha my heartiest mazal tov and tell them that while I would love to attend, I have to give my deepest regrets that I simply cannot make it.
Believe it or not, people can and will understand if you cannot make it to a particular simcha for one of the above reasons. People understand that sometimes costs cannot be borne (whether they be financial or logistical costs). And, truth to tell, if the ba'alei simcha are stubborn enough not to understand, then perhaps it's their attitude that needs to be adjusted. If they are selfish enough to "guilt-trip" you into spending money, time or effort that you cannot afford, then perhaps you might want to reconsider how much you want to associate with them. Personally, I would prefer to spend my time with people who are more empathic to my needs and abilities, rather than be so self-centered to demand that everyone attend to them whether they have the means to do so or not.
You write that the yungerman in your town goes to please his parents and grandparents. I can certainly understand that. But even parents and grandparents can be made to understand the fact that you simply don't have the funds or the ability to travel to every family simcha. They may not be happy about the situation, but they can understand.
There is one additional point I would like to address in your letter. You write about going to a wedding "to say mazel tov to their disinterested uncle and aunt at their cousin’s wedding, and barely get to eat a cold piece of halfbaked chicken if they even make it for the main course."
Personally, when I go to a simcha, I don't care if I get a half-baked piece of chicken or not. When I attend a family member's or friend's simcha, my main goal in going is to be m'sameach (make happy) the participants. (I also have a secondary goal, as an amateur shutterbug, of taking as many family pictures as possible -- but that's just my personal mishugass.) I also understand that at a large affair with many people, the ba'al simcha may not have more than a few seconds to give me a quick "Mazal Tov, I'm so glad you could come." In short, I've learned that the wedding or bar mitzvah or whatever is not about me -- it's about the ba'alei simcha. Would it be nice if they could spend a whole ten minutes with me? Sure -- but when there are over fifty guests, it just becomes impractical, if not impossible.
In short, I don't go to a simcha with the idea of "what am I going to get out of the simcha?" My goal is "how can I contribute to the simcha?" If I get nothing out of it (or even just a half-baked piece of chicken and only two seconds with the ba'alei simcha) so be it.
The Wolf
Dear Editor,
Since when did Lakewood become one of the five boroughs of New York City?
“Huh?” you want to ask me. “Who said it is?
Well, I’ll tell you who said it is. It seems, based on current custom, that for every event - wedding, bar mitzvah, bris, sheva brachos, etc. - held in Brooklyn or anywhere else in New York for that matter, those who live in Lakewood - young couples and older families as well - are expected to commute. I find that ridiculous.
Who decided that people should be traveling for at least 2-1/2 hours to attend every simcha of every cousin?
Besides for the shlep, how about the impossibility of getting a babysitter? Does anyone know how hard it is to find a babysitter?
And of course, the babysitter will take good money for her services, which she deserves.
Add the cost of gas and tolls, and basically, you have young couples, who live on shoestring budgets in the fi rst place, shlepping to New York at a cost of at least $65-70, to say mazel tov to their disinterested uncle and aunt at their cousin’s wedding, and barely get to eat a cold piece of halfbaked chicken if they even make it for the main course.
I am sorry, but this is not normal.
I know a yungerman who he has limited income. He is smart and careful about how he spends his money, and he and his wife get by okay, boruch Hashem. Recently, however, he told me that he had to travel in to New York for three simchos of cousins, at a cost - all in one month - of a total of over $300, which he cannot afford. (He learns in a paying night kollel and had to give up the money he receives as well.) And for what?
“At one simcha,” he told me, “the baal simcha (his relative) barely gave me the time of day as I wished him mazel tov. I imagine he realized who I am, but I wondered why I even came. But the reason why I traveled,” he said, “was because if we wouldn’t come, my parents, and especially grandparents, would be upset.
It has to stop. Couples who have young children, or even older children, cannot be expected to travel in to New York - or anywhere else that requires multiple hours of driving - for every simcha. It is not fair to the young couples, and it can potentially affect their wellbeing and their shalom bayis, not to mention their finances.
I would add that, similarly, those living in Brooklyn or anywhere else should likewise not be expected to travel for over an hour to Lakewood or any other place for a simcha of a non-immediate relative.
It is time we bring back sanity into our lives and put a stop to the unreasonable expectations and demands that we have allowed to become part of our culture.
Sincerely,
Y. Gordon
Here's my response:
Dear Y,
Thank you for your letter. I can certainly understand why you would be upset. Traveling a long distance to go to a simcha can be an arduous and sometimes expensive proposition. And, in this day and age when everyone's watching the purse strings, I definitely understand why you would be upset at having to shell out major money for what might turn out to be a mediocre night at best.
But there was one thing about your letter that left me a bit confused. Is there a police force in Lakewood that forces you go to affairs in Brooklyn and other far away places? I don't mean to be facetious, but I'm wondering why you simply cannot just say no.
I know that I love to go to family affairs. I go just about every opportunity that I can. But I also know that there are times that I simply cannot go. Sometimes it interferes with my work or school schedules. Other times it is just costs too much (financially) to go. And sometimes, it's just not practical -- maybe it's a work night and I know that I'm not going to be up to four hours of round-trip travel time. When this happens, I send the ba'alei simcha my heartiest mazal tov and tell them that while I would love to attend, I have to give my deepest regrets that I simply cannot make it.
Believe it or not, people can and will understand if you cannot make it to a particular simcha for one of the above reasons. People understand that sometimes costs cannot be borne (whether they be financial or logistical costs). And, truth to tell, if the ba'alei simcha are stubborn enough not to understand, then perhaps it's their attitude that needs to be adjusted. If they are selfish enough to "guilt-trip" you into spending money, time or effort that you cannot afford, then perhaps you might want to reconsider how much you want to associate with them. Personally, I would prefer to spend my time with people who are more empathic to my needs and abilities, rather than be so self-centered to demand that everyone attend to them whether they have the means to do so or not.
You write that the yungerman in your town goes to please his parents and grandparents. I can certainly understand that. But even parents and grandparents can be made to understand the fact that you simply don't have the funds or the ability to travel to every family simcha. They may not be happy about the situation, but they can understand.
There is one additional point I would like to address in your letter. You write about going to a wedding "to say mazel tov to their disinterested uncle and aunt at their cousin’s wedding, and barely get to eat a cold piece of halfbaked chicken if they even make it for the main course."
Personally, when I go to a simcha, I don't care if I get a half-baked piece of chicken or not. When I attend a family member's or friend's simcha, my main goal in going is to be m'sameach (make happy) the participants. (I also have a secondary goal, as an amateur shutterbug, of taking as many family pictures as possible -- but that's just my personal mishugass.) I also understand that at a large affair with many people, the ba'al simcha may not have more than a few seconds to give me a quick "Mazal Tov, I'm so glad you could come." In short, I've learned that the wedding or bar mitzvah or whatever is not about me -- it's about the ba'alei simcha. Would it be nice if they could spend a whole ten minutes with me? Sure -- but when there are over fifty guests, it just becomes impractical, if not impossible.
In short, I don't go to a simcha with the idea of "what am I going to get out of the simcha?" My goal is "how can I contribute to the simcha?" If I get nothing out of it (or even just a half-baked piece of chicken and only two seconds with the ba'alei simcha) so be it.
The Wolf
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