Don’t Text While Driving, or, How I Discovered the Book of Customs

I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time in the car lately. And the nature of my drives, moving out of my beloved home in Berkeley to transition to the unknown in Canada, has made this time both slightly sorrowful and reflective, which has in turn led to some unexpected trains of thought...

In preparation for my arrival in Canada, I had planned to move out of the apartment in Berkeley and drive down to San Diego on Saturday. I was looking forward to it – ready for the adventure, ready for something new, braced to face the unknown. I navigated the social calendar of the week, with parties, happy hours, and meals, interspersed with packing and cleaning. When Friday arrived, I knew I was a bit behind, but felt confident that I would be able to finish packing and get on the road at a reasonable hour the next day. Full of joy and determination, I headed out for one final party, to celebrate the time honored tradition of sharing cocktails with friends. I stayed out too late that night, for reasons that I really wouldn’t understand until the next day were actually connected to my UNreadiness to leave.

On Sunday morning, the world came crashing down. It began with my ignoring the alarm, and quickly snowballed into my complete inability to perform simple tasks, such as thinking. Suddenly the idea of taking everything that was left in the house and putting it in a small car and driving away forever seemed to be the most impossible thing I had ever attempted. I hated my clothes; I hated my books; I hated boxes, dust rags, packing tape, and even NPR; but most of all, I hated myself. Fortunately, at the point of finding myself completely immobile amidst a precarious pile of objects, I also found myself reaching out for help from a good friend, who came through in a way I could never imagine and scarcely know how to repay. Consolations were given, strategies created, and tears dried. Together, we packed and cleaned for the next 12 hours, until the house was ready to be turned over, and the car was on the verge of bursting. I was forced to admit to myself that I had been, in fact, in NO WAY WHATSOEVER ready to leave Berkeley; but at least if I had to spend another night there I was in good company.

The next morning I set out early, car lumbering and heavy, storms on the horizon, and with a plan to take the coastal route in an attempt to save both my nerves and the car from the Grapevine. The drive was easy enough; I stopped only twice – once to nap and once for gas, and made it home in a respectable 10 hours. About 7 hours into the drive, where the 101 careens out of Ventura County and into the San Fernando Valley, my iPod died. A small inconvenience compared to the rest of my setbacks in this move, I still took it as a grave loss, and yet another sign of my inability to prepare for the trip. I turned on NPR, a familiar resting place, and was slightly disappointed to hear that the show just starting was “Speaking of Religion,” one unfamiliar to me, and far too dry for my impending dash through LA. It took only a few minutes for me to warm up to it, though.

The topic of this particular show was appropriate for the day (Dec 21): Hanukkah, and a Rediscovery of Jewish Customs. On the surface, this could go many unexciting ways. But the introduction of the guest, “book designer and author Scott-Martin Kosofsky,” piqued my interest – a book designer brought on the show to discuss a rediscovery of Jewish customs? What’s his angle….? His angle, it turns out, is a very fascinating one. Kosofsky is the author/editor of a modern edition of the medieval work the Book of Customs, which guided Jewish families through the liturgical year for three centuries. And rather than trying to fit modern life rigidly into anachronistic practices, as I had expected, he lovingly and painstakingly researched the basis and intent of the original text, and along the way discovered some rather profound (at least for me) things in order to bring tradition back into modern life.

I will not review the entire hour show; if your interest is piqued, you can find the podcast and a few other extras here: http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/2008/hanukkah/

The things that struck me the most is his consistent return to a few simple themes, no matter the season, liturgy, or holiday he was discussing. One was the ever-changing relationship of man to God, and the changing character of God throughout the liturgy. Growing up Protestant, God did not have a character – he simply WAS. He wasn’t ever ill-tempered or impatient, he was never mischievous, never anything other than all-knowing and all loving. In Kosofsky’s view, God was all of these things, and the story of humans is the story of our interactions with God.

But the theme which left the greatest impression on me is actually that which inspired the original writing of the text – that at the very base of all traditional practices of all sects of the Jewish faith is the adherence to these principles in order to “live like a good person;” that “what you believe follows only after what you do.” I grew up around many observant (reform) Jewish families, and was often a part of holidays and daily practices. Yet this idea was something wholly new to me, at least in the simple way Kosofsky put it: that to be Jewish in faith in a very simple way means to believe in the one God, the chosen people, and the customs to live by. I find this profoundly beautiful, and worth deeper consideration.

While the idea of this simplicity in the Jewish faith had been rolling around in my head since I first heard it, it took something more modern for it to become the subject of a blog – the traffic alert signs on the freeways in LA. After making it breathlessly to San Diego yesterday, I was obliged to go up to Los Angeles today to see friends before I leave for Canada. I am familiar with this stretch of freeway, and am usually amused to see how notices on the oversized LED boards are worded, informing us either dryly or unwittingly humorously about road conditions, traffic, and possible kidnappings. Or, in a perfect world, giving us advice on major decisions a la “LA Story.” I was surprised, then, when the only text, on every sign I passed, on each leg of the 130-mile drive, was “DON’T TEXT WHILE DRIVING JAN 1ST.” Had LA Story come true? Have the signs finally decided they know what is best for us? After about the 8th sign, my brain made the connection – while this might not count as a custom to help you “live like a good person,” it certainly is an example of a required adherence to law in order to protect other members of society. In reality, I enjoy texting in the car and will be glad to be in Canada by the time the law goes into effect. But it also made me wonder more deeply about the role of these shared customs and laws, and in particular about the connections forged by shared remembrances. As a life-long agnostic who’s relationship with God has been at best nebulous and at worst antagonistic, this interpretation of the Jewish faith has hit me as unnervingly comfortable and personal. Perhaps it’s the timing of the receipt of the message, in the midst of my own on-going crisis of changing places, but the idea of living before believing, or living in order to believe (rather than the traditional Christian converse of this idea), may be one that changes my views on religion. Stay tuned…

In the meantime, enjoy this English translation of the cover of a 1593 Venetian print of the Book of Customs:

C U S T O M S
MUCH NICER THAN THE PREVIOUS VERSIONS
Everyone will enjoy reading it!

Contains all the customs in Ashkenaz for the entire year
and includes customs for Italy, Poland, Bohemia, Moravia,
and several more.

Laws explained well, so you will know
how to live like a good person.

And it was not forgotten to include a CALENDAR for seventy
years, counted precisely, containing the zodiac and the times
for Rosh Hodesh, which were not included previously.

Image of woodcut encircled by text:
"This is God, our God
forever and ever, He
will be our guide"
– Psalms 48:14 –

Printed for the second time in the Big City of
V E N I C E
in the year 5353 /1593 at the house of Zuan di Gara

Suitcases for shoes….

We all know that old [Forrest Gump] adage that says you can tell a lot about a person by the shoes she wears. A relatively obvious corollary is that of volume – HOW MANY shoes she has. Being from San Diego, I am painfully aware of the primary statement; I have long held contempt for men who wear slide-sandals, or really any other kind of man-sandal [mandal], for that matter. Though San Diego is a very laid-back place, there are very strict unwritten rules for appropriate footwear, which, if broken, allow for a large amount of judgment on the part of those of us who subscribe to the no-mandal doctrine.

I never imagined, however, that the second statement might apply to me. Yes, I have a certain style; yes, I tend to have more clothes than I need (who doesn’t); but I’m a pretty low-maintenance woman. I don’t often go shopping, I don’t ascribe a lot of value to brand names, and I don’t have shoes that I don’t wear.

Or so I believed….

Today I started sorting and packing my clothes in preparation for the trip, going through to see if there was anything that I could sell or give to Goodwill to make the load lighter. The closet and the dresser were simple tasks; after all, I’d already done a good deal of packing of the clothes before thanksgiving. As I got to the bottom of the closet, however, it became a bit like a treasure hunt. I have a box to hold handbags; this is one of my admitted weaknesses. As I began to go through them, I actually discovered bags and purses that I haven’t used since college. COLLEGE. Each layer revealed a new era in my history, beginning with my current uber-hipness, upheld by simple yet functional [“smart and attractive”] shoulder bags that I acquired at the beginning of grad school. These top two thicker horizons were underlain with a sprinkling of decorative bags [ie: silk Chinese take-out shaped clutch] that I’ve never used, but were gifts so I’ve held on to them. As these were removed one by one, however, I encountered an unexpected base to the bag formation: the assortment of tiny purses I used in college. I used to carry a small “armpit purse” every day in college. I can’t believe it myself – I’m pretty sure I can fit ten of those in the bag I use every day today. Naturally, they go in the “buffalo exchange” pile.

What was most surprising to me, however, was what was hidden under the bags….

I like shoes. We all know this. I’m currently [publicly] panicking about having to wear ugly shoes in order to survive a winter with all of my toes. I currently have +/- 12 pair of shoes sitting right next to my front door, having worn them each at least once in the past two weeks. I went through the remaining shoes hanging in the canvas holder in my closet, and decided to keep two pair and put four pair in the “buffalo exchange” pile. There were even 3 pair that were so thrashed I had to throw them away. I haven’t been doing the math, but that’s a lot of shoes. And then I moved the handbags.

I opened the little canvas storage box under the lowest layer of handbags, and, OMFG, there are those loafers I wore for halloween two years ago. I love those shoes – I should keep them. Oh, and hey, there are the strappy platforms that Tony helped me pick out! Forgot about those – they should go in the shoe rack now that there’s room. Hey, another box! I had no idea I had this much room in my closet. What’s in here – Holy Crap I Forgot All About These Blue Heels! I should wear them before I move. What pretty shoes!

This internal monologue went on quite a bit longer, until I finally had the closet cleared and there were no more places for shoes to hide. I ended up with five more pair that I wanted to keep, not counting those that I’m getting rid of. What am I going to do with all of these shoes?

Having some kind of emotional attachment to each pair that I didn’t immediately decide to get rid of, the idea of letting SOMEONE ELSE wear my shoes [I could totally find an outfit for them] is just unbearable. The only solution is to find room for them on the move. The biggest challenge, then, is that I’ve decided to limit myself to two [2] large suitcases for the flight east. Even when the shoes that are inappropriate for winter [read: lead to missing toes] are factored out of the spatial equation, it’s looking as though one of those suitcases will be exclusively for shoes. SHOES. When I account for all the matching scarf/hat/gloves sets that I found today [I’ve lived in coastal California my entire life], I don’t know how I’ll have room for any real clothes.

You can survive a winter in Toronto wearing only a fancy coat, some pretty boots, and matching scarf/hat/glove set, right? I should probably bring some underwear too….

the Origin of morethanlolcat....

Just in case you were curious - the title of the blog is a reflection of my mixed feelings about indulging in self-aggrandizement via the internet. Here is a poem which expresses that:


POEM

I am just

another bro on the tumblr memesphere.

Trying to go viral

(on a small and meaningful scale)

Want people to value my memes

but want my audience 2 be limited 2

ppl who ‘get’ high-end memes.

I am more than just a lolcat.

[via: http://hipsterrunoff.tumblr.com/post/63993805/poem

Everyone Wants to Sleep in My Bed

Just not with me....

This week marked my official entrance into the craigslist economy. Not only did I find a place to live in the TO, I also listed 3 (THREE) items for sale in the classified. And right away I started getting emails about my bed. No surprise, because its an AWESOME bed. Particularly because I have slept in it for the last 5 years. The only downside: I really don't want to talk to anyone; people who want to buy my bed are SO ANNOYING. I wish the bed would just disappear and money would appear in my wallet. Wouldn't that be cool? Get on that, Craislist.

Now if only someone wanted the chair......

Because I really am More Than Just a LOLcat.

I was talking (drinking) with Marina last night, who I LOVE btw, and she told me I needed to have a BLOG. While I was and am hesitant, there are a few good reasons for me to comply and officially become a part of the meme generation:

1) Stupid things happen to me as much/more than they do to everyone else, and I like sharing my embarrassing moments with others. This is far and away the biggest reason.

2) I find excitement and interest in all kinds of tiny things and figure someone else I know will share these feelings.

3) I'm moving out of the country so hilarity/deep thoughts will most likely occur regularly.

That's about it. Also, because I am sooo much more than just the combination of my Facebook and Flickr accounts. Perhaps one day I'll find my true voice as a blogger, but for now I must simply declare that I am more than just a LOLcat.

I'll be on facebook if you need me.