Update to the Puppy Post

If you recall, I couldn't find a digital photo that accurately depicted Freckles. Well, this week, I saw a picture that so resembled her that I immediately sent the link to all immediate family members.

In response to the question: "Really looks like her, no?" we have:

My father's reaction:
I don't recall ever taking such a photo, but there can't be that many dogs with that combination of head and floppy ears.

My mother's reaction:
Oh, my!  We didn't know she was "moonlighting" as a model for a dog's life!  Somehow I think Freckles' coat was a little nicer but it sure does look like her!

My sister's reaction:
exactly!!!

Here's the photo - it's not our dog come back from the grave, but a dead-ringer for her, at least in her laziest moments:

Where does decision-making fit into this? Go back and ask my mother who decided to bring the puppy home.

Bad Choices: Sex and Drugs and Rock & Roll

Mom, you may be too young for this post. Don't be embarrassed. 

So many bad choices indeed relate to sex... Which ones? Well, the most obvious problem is the consequences of not-safe-sex (think the tragic decimation across the continent of Africa). There are the horrors of sex trade (leaving aside the recent debate in the cyberpages of the New York Times about legalizing prostitution). The prurient, sordid details that capture our basest rubber-necking impulses (not mine!). Children having children - accidentally, I mean. Not to mention (except that I am) the potentially demoralizing training undertaken by the "hook-up nation."  Read and listen here.

Perhaps when combined with drugs (leave aside the music), sex is the victim of poor judgement. But inasmuch as so many bad choices indeed relate to sex, I'd rather talk about the "good choices" that relate to sex. Rather, difficult choices...for the sake of sound body, sound mind, sound soul.

The angst that may permeate decisions of sexuality (and I explicitly do not mean issues of sexual orientation) was well articulated by L.M. Montgomery, most famous for her Anne of Green Gables series. Lesser known are her personal journals, several volumes of them, that attest to a less joyous existence than the author's novels imply. The youthful Volume 1, however, maintains much of the same tone as the beloved novels, with L.M. Montgomery playing the role of her own heroine.

She describes the flush of her first unreasonable crush: "there came over me like a spell the mysterious, irresistible influence which [the boy] exercised over me...an attraction I could neither escape nor overcome and against which all the resolution and will power in the world didn't weigh a feather's weight....I was aware in a dim, vague way, that danger of some sort was surely ahead...." Perhaps she would have been less concerned if the object of her passion had been her fiance, but this crush was deemed unsuitable for all the right reasons. She maintains that "[i]t would be the rankest folly to dream of marrying such a man. If [she] were mad enough to do so--well, [she] would be deliriously happy for a year of so--and wretched, discontented and unhappy all the rest of [her] life..." (pp. 209-210).

She goes on to describe months of temptation, and her very real struggle between following her heart's burning desire and avoiding the scandal and shame and contempt that would inevitably (!) follow her downfall.

Sounds like succumbing would be a "bad choice," eh? Clearly, L.M. Montgomery thought that following her heart would be the wrong move. But even when she felt herself to be "tiptoeing on the brink of utter destruction," she tells us, "I could realize nothing except than that I was in the arms of of the man I loved as I had never dreamed I could love" (p. 211).

Thus, my label of "difficult choices" - where both sides of the decision have favorable elements (one might argue that even the worst of cases have an upside, at least in the rush of the moment). Thus, the fact that I have a very hard time talking about sexuality in the context of "bad choices." Too many paint sex with a very dirty brush - which runs counter not only to my sense of nature (human beings are hard-wired with sexual desire, beyond the need for propagation of all species), but also to my sense of the Bible, from which so many glean their taboos.

For many, the idea that sexual intimacy was part and parcel of life in the Garden of Eden is radical at best, and blasphemy at worst. It's a subtle point of grammar, but in the fourth chapter of Genesis, after the account of the expulsion from Eden, the Bible tells of the births of Cain and Abel.  The verse says: ואדם ידע את חוה אשתו - and in the Hebrew lies the import of the verse. NOT: "And Adam knew his wife Eve" (this is where "knowledge" got its "biblical sense").  Rather, "And Adam had known his wife Eve." (If you don't believe me, find a biblical Hebrew grammarian, and ask him or her the difference between וידע and והוא ידע). That is, prior to the previous details, namely, the expulsion and the sins that led up to it, there had been "knowledge" between Adam and his wife Eve. Getting kicked out of the Garden of Eden was punishment for sin (giving in to temptation, apathy, malice - depending on which sinning party), but the awareness of nakedness that followed the eating from the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil seems not to indicate an awakening of sexuality, but an awakening of shame. And thus our sense of bad sexual choices, indeed.

Granted, the Bible does legislate against all kinds of sexual interaction. Incest is clearly and explicitly delimited - including its accompanying punishment of death. Moreover, the biblical injunction against sexual intimacy with a menstruant woman (one who has reached puberty, but who has not purified herself by dunking in 40 se'ah of water (the contemporary mikveh) after her previous menstrual period) has yielded a vast topic in Jewish law, and a prurient interest in the lives of those Orthodox Jews who adhere to these laws, including not touching before marriage.

For the most poignant, painful, heart-wrenching, honest discourse on what it means to be shomer negiah in an age when people are not, and at an age when those who are usually no longer have to be (marriage!), see the "primal scream" of Nice Jewish Girl. I do not know her personally (well, she's very anonymous, so if I do know her, I don't know that I do), but I do know that (just about) anyone who is seriously committed to keeping halakhah has grappled with the challenges of these laws.

Let's assume, for the sake of the discussion, that everyone manages to keep all of the laws (in reality, the range of observance is about as great as the variety of people). Jewish law mandates against premarital sexual contact, but strongly encourages the positive elements of sexual intimacy within the context of marriage. Hence, The Newlywed's Guide to Physical Intimacy, by Jennie Rosenfeld and David Ribner. They address those who take the laws of intimacy seriously, and answer the concern that publishing on this topic is inherently immodest by explaining that since frank conversation no longer (usually) takes place in the home, written works become valuable. They remind us that "[s]hared sexual activity, helped along by hormones, nerve endings, and [the] five senses, can help [us] achieve a level of physical pleasure not possible elsewhere in...life." And that "...enjoyment as sexual partners is more than just physical; it can bring [a couple] to a place of closeness with another person that no other experience can provide" (p. 9). Again, human beings are hard-wired for the sexual experience.

Which brings me to the words of a (sometimes) wise man, where the complexity of sexual intimacy and decision-making is well recognized (and I'll leave him with the last words for today):

"Sexual experience...is a story that includes prep time, mood, and a host of other factors. For instance, does one require romantic activities - dinner, shared activity, conversation - gradual buildup - familiar touches, massage, holding - and sweet nothings? Or is the unexpected "take and throw me down" welcome? Is romance, passion, and an enveloping mental connection most desirable, or the pure intense body part and mental...stimulation? Or are both welcome at different times?....More importantly, in a healthy relationship, sex is not the end-all, but one component in a relationship that drives the rest...."

Waiting...waiting...waiting....

When all is said and done...when you've agonized and deliberated and weighed the pros and cons ad nauseum, until even you yourself can't bear going over the details again...when you've finally reached the conclusions that make sense to you (in light of all that you've considered thus far)...then...then....

That is when the waiting game begins.

That is when you must be patient to see the fruits of your labor. To determine whether your conclusions can coexist with the "real world." To hear how others receive your conclusions. To find out whether all of the parameters that you accepted as givens while you were agonizing and deliberating and weighing are indeed to be the parameters of your experience.

The "game" of the "waiting game" is the challenge of knowing that this too shall pass (and figuring out what to do with your time in the interim). Your dependence on others to realize the outcomes of what you've decided is fleeting (even when it's long). In the scheme of things, you can be glad that you've arrived at the stage you have reached - and that, at least for the time being (however brief), matters are out of your hands. The outcomes will come...come what may.

Quick: Cast Your Vote

Except that this election (United States presidency, in case you missed it - between Obama and Romney) may not be a "quick" decision for you.

Far be it from me to pontificate about politics. I'm not even local to the debates.

But for a change, depending on where you live, of course, the outcome of this year's election may depend on your vote. For the rest of us (my absentee ballot is unlikely to be read, let alone make or break the count), the outcome of this year's election has ramifications.

That is, there are elections where the candidates seem to be largely on the same page - campaign rhetoric aside.  Really not the case this year.

For a change, I care pretty strongly about who wins. I think that there is a clear "better option" for the country, and even perhaps the world. Especially in these hard times - economically, militarily, socially - who the next United States president is may really make a difference. This, as compared to years when POTUS was merely "the most powerful man in the world" - and whoever filled the seat would do the job that needed to be done.

I don't feel that way this year. This year, your decision counts.

Moreover, there's that civic duty. Somehow, I feel bound by it - despite the fact that I am voting in a state with a foregone conclusion. Moreover, I am doing so, as I said, via absentee ballot, and the policy is not to read the absentee ballots unless the local votes are close enough that the election would hinge on the absentee ballots. So I care about the outcome this year, but my vote will technically not be counted. Why bother? In part, because I can - I have the right to vote. In part, because if my 93-year-old grandmother (as of today, in fact) has never missed a presidential election, how can I?

The polls are still open. Go vote!

[Note that I'm posting in a GMT+2 time zone - the polls are open in the U.S.; it's the next day already here.]

The Tyranny of Choice

Objectively, having choices is a good thing.

Don't believe me? Consider the dictatorial regimes where private citizens are only permitted to do that which they are permitted to do by the dictatorial regime. To modern Western sensibilities, the most egregious offenses against choice may well be the Saudi Arabian law that forbids women to drive and the edicts of the Taliban that prevent women from leaving their homes house except under cover of a burka (read "Latifa's" account if you want a pretty direct account of restrictive Afghanistan). Alternatively, consider the prison experience of Marina Nemat.

So we WANT to have choices. We want our choices to be our own. We - and I speak for  myself here - hate limitations.

The irony is that every choice we make, some to greater extent than others, engenders limitations.  And it's now well known that too much choice inhibits choosing.

How so? The easy explanation is that too many options overload our decision-making apparatus and we freeze. For those who have a hard time making any decision, "too many options" may be as few as two (I've seen this happen even on such mundane matters as whether to go out for Chinese food or hamburgers, though little more than the satisfaction of taste buds was at stake).

In February 2010, The New York Times reported on the famous 1995 jam experiment. Shoppers were invited to sample an assortment of jams. That assortment contained either 24 varieties or 6 varieties (it's a controlled study - they're able to rig the numbers however they want). More people stopped to view the laden table, but more people bought when there were only 6 jams to choose from.

In December 2010, The Economist joined the conversation, pointing out that the overload of choices permeates every aspect of modern life, beginning with the myriad flavors available in potato chips (well, they're English, so they're crisps): Thai sweet chili; balsamic vinegar and caramelized onion; Oriental red curry; lime and coriander chutney; vintage cheddar and onion chutney; buffalo mozzarella and herbs; chicken tikka masala. Exotic, yes. But more- the tastes have been refined, the distinctions between flavors subtle (or they should be if the potato chips are produced well), and the obvious choice anything but. Remember the days of "regular" vs. "sour cream and onion" vs. "barbecue"? Not so refined, perhaps...but if you were in the mood for one, the odds were good that you wouldn't have been in the mood for the other.

Before you learned which beverage you prefer at Starbucks (or that you really want coffee from Dunkin' Donuts instead), wasn't the menu daunting?

When you received vast numbers of solicitations inviting you to attend whichever college or university, didn't you wonder how you could sift through the pile?

When all the boys were banging down your door, or all the girls were following you around, was it easy for you to figure out who was right for you? (after you sobered up from the flattery, I mean)

Long have I believed that "very often, less is more." Long have I appreciated the limits my life choices place on my daily decisions. Moreover, I seem to (largely) limit my options, intuitively.

http://shirt.woot.com/blog/post/less-is-more

For example: like many college seniors, I made a number of "prospective college visits." I only visited the places I considered applying (a list that was refined by the college guidance counselor). I considered and I weighed and I asked questions and I deliberated. Then, I applied "early action" and was lucky enough to avoid applying further.

More formally: by keeping kosher, I am restricted in which foods I eat and when I eat them. No bacon or lobster or the alligator that New Orleans claims tastes like chicken (I'll have chicken instead, thanks). No cheeseburger, no beef stroganoff (though it sounds really yummy), and no exotic gustatory exploring (not even in Paris) -- with rare exception. So I have to select my eats from among the kosher foods...and those limitations help focus the decision (albeit with exception, especially when traveling, when the limitations do continue to help, but also interfere).

http://mybestcookbook.wordpress.com/2011/09/13/from-russia-with-love-beef-stroganoff/

Similarly: by adhering to certain "modest" standards of dress, I start with some givens, and have an easier time shopping. Rather, I may be challenged to find clothes I like that meet these standards (rendered only more complex by my personal taste, of course). But I won't be stymied by whether to select a dress or a pantsuit, a tank top or sleeves. I work within the limitations - and discover that despite them, I still own what is surely officially too many clothes in my closet (except for on those mornings when nothing I see will do).

anthropologie.com

Perhaps, as the article in The Economist suggests, the children who are raised among today's excessive array of choices will grow up to be less adept at serious decision-making (I'm not recommending limiting dinner options or school clothes just for the sake of it). Perhaps they will experience the paralysis of too many options. But for me, the tyranny of choice is not the phenomenon of too many choices.

Dictionary.com's first definition of "tyranny" is: "arbitrary or unrestrained exercise of power; despotic abuse of authority." Dictionary.com's last definition of tyranny is: "undue severity or harshness." What is harsh about making a choice? How can a decision I make myself - with no Taliban legislating against me - be an abuse of authority?

Well, sometimes, the despotism lies in the formulation of the question. Sometimes, it lies in the decision itself.

Thus, if you ask yourself, "what shall I have for dinner?" and you choose chicken or alligator or Chinese food or even peanut butter and one of the many jams, you are not subject to the harshness of the decision. You've asked an open-ended question, and answered according to your dinner druthers of that evening. If you ask yourself, "what do I want to do?" and you opt for skydiving or macrame or bar-hopping or curling up with a good book, you are honoring, so to speak, your preference of the time. What you want to do is bounded by your imagination and your skillset and finances - and all kinds of other incidentals - but not by the phenomenon of choosing. Or not exactly.

By contrast, and perhaps this will help make my point more clearly, when you are presented with a choice between X and Y, whether a huge "life-decision" or the choices of the day-to-day, "X" means "not-Y," and "Y" means "not-X" - at least, not at that time. There's no open-ended question to be answered with anything you can think of. Rather, the choice becomes absolute.

Thus, the tyranny of choice. The moment you make your decision, when it is an absolute one, you are harshly restrained from that which could not coexist with your choice. The choosing itself is the despot, for it eliminates your alternatives. And while being able to make your own choices is surely a blessing, it is sometimes disguised, thanks to the potential that is lost when you narrow your focus, restrict your options, cancel your dilemmas, and limit your future.

By the way, offering small children the choice of X or Y is a good ploy. "Would you like to go to bed right now or in 5 minutes?" The child purportedly feels empowered, because he or she is calling the shots (ha!) and the parent is safe from the battles that so often ensue following parental declaration ("bedtime is now"). The fallacy, of course, and we do well to remember it, is that in receiving every edict as a choice, kids are at risk of thinking that all decisions truly are up to them. The dissonance that results when these kids grow up to discover that some circumstances are decided instead by divine fiat can be paralyzing too.

I will admit that considering the paralysis of too many options has been a long time coming. Ironically, it was the either/or aspect of defined decisions that finally made it the priority post.

Finally, consider the "paradox of choice," as popularized by Barry Schwartz:


In particular, note that Schwartz acknowledges that his students will focus on their "consuming questions," to the detriment of their schoolwork, and he has adjusted his courses to accommodate the choices he knows they will prioritize.

Note also that he recognizes that one's satisfaction in deciding on X is often diminished by an awareness of what Y might have been. That is, not doing Y makes the X that has been chosen less attractive than X presumably would have been without any awareness of Y. It's a hard thing - to avoid knowing what else could be. Living in the moment is important; living well with one's decisions might be more so.

And when you get to Schwartz's comment about the security and safety and benefits of living in a fishbowl rather than shattering it, keep in mind that without that fishbowl - if the fishbowl is shattered - what you get (what the fish gets) is death.

Bad Choices: Good or Good

The modern classic "bad choice" is the one forced upon Sophie.  Meryl Streep made it infamous (she won the Academy Award for Best Actress), bringing William Styron's novel to life.

If you can't bear to watch the video (linked above), the bottom line is that the Sophie had to choose between her children. Not which one would live with her, but which one would live. Meaning, yes, that the other would die. It sounds like a case study for a Lifeboat Ethics philosophy class (or in my case, Moral Reasoning 22) - the Nazis are always good for the "bad guy," and Sophie's Choice is no exception.

Most of the "bad choices" on this blog are where the outcome of the decision is "bad" - for whatever reason. The outcome of Sophie's choice is terrible - her daughter dies - even though her son survives. But being forced to make such a choice is nearly as bad (okay, no, I don't think that's true...the murder of a child trumps most "bad," but the trauma in the mother's process is not good by any means). That is, not only is the outcome of the decision bad, but the making of the decision is bad as well.

There are other decisions where the making of the decision is bad, even though the outcome of the decision is not objectively evil (in case you weren't sure). My oldest personal example of this realization is the decision I had to make during the summer between tenth and eleventh grade. Namely, to continue in the new school I attended for tenth grade, or to switch to a (another) new school. I took a piece of paper (back when the world depended on paper) and folded it in half, vertically. On one side, I made a list of the pros and cons of the first school on each side of the fold, and on the other side, I made a list of pros and cons of the other school. Both options had serious pros and some not-insignificant cons. The choice was excruciating - but fundamentally, it was between "good" and "good" (in the end, it didn't matter - my parents made the final decision, and I ended up switching....and it was surely better for me (since when are parents right?), but even this many years later, where much of my life-experience has followed well from that pivot point, I'm hard-pressed to think that remaining in place would have been actually "bad").

The problem, back then, was that I wanted the pros of the one school AND the pros of the other school. In retrospect, I did experience both - sequentially, instead of simultaneously.

I faced another such conflict between "good" and "good" (this time, characterized as such by my mother, who told me she supported me in whatever I decided - why do parents only make decisions for you when you don't want them to, and not when you do?!?) when I was in college and making summer plans: educational camp counselor in Pennsylavania (TVI, for those in the know) or in Russia with the newly founded YUSSR (to Odessa, if I recall correctly). A less seminal decision to be sure, but it seemed to me at the time that either direction could pull me dramatically. Perhaps staying in the U.S. did have lasting impact...at least in terms of whom I'm friends with today, some of whom I spent that summer with, and likely would not have known as well otherwise. Also in terms of who I became as a teacher - since I began my stint as a first-year-teacher (that only happens once) on the heels of a month of preparation that wouldn't have happened if I'd gone to the FSU. And who knows what would have happened had I been in Russia during the coup d'etat (it might have been exciting, but I think it would have freaked out my mother who "supported me in either decision").

The outcomes of these decisions were good - that's what it means to choose between the "good" and the "good"! But the angst I suffered through the drama of weighing the pros, the cons, the potential implications, and finally, just trying to figure out what I myself honestly wanted...not so good. Not easy. Not fun. Even bad. Moreover, hindsight is 20-20.  The "good" in both options is not necessarily readily apparent. Nor is all good created equal. Don't you always seek the "better"? I do. Nearly always.

This kind of decision seems to be my lot. Truth be told, I suppose I'm grateful for that.

In being able to see the upsides and the downsides to most things, each time I face a choice that is not obvious (the bad outcome is usually the obvious thing to avoid), I find myself in that kind of angst. I've gotten better at it. I no longer (rarely) fold a piece of paper in two - nor the moral virtual equivalent. And I'm glad to have both the choice and the ability to choose (angst-inducing though it may be).

It's Complicated

Funny how that became a tag line for tricky relationships.

They even made a movie about more tricky relationships than should exist in real life (though they do).

In today's case, however, I would say that all kinds of things can turn unexpectedly complicated.

I created a blog about making decisions when I had a challenging decision to make and that task prompted me to think about making decisions in general. What we choose, how we choose, the way choices impact every minute of every day.

But you kinda figure that once you've made your decision - whether it's for the chocolate ice cream or the summer in France or what to do with the rest of your life - you can tootle on your merry way, carrying it out (tasting the cold, stumbling through French, and all the little pieces that come together to make the rest of your life).

Ever hear of a red herring? A red herring might throw a dog off his scent. I'm thinking that sometimes, the decision that you made...that you finalized...that you closed in your brain and proceeded to begin carrying out...that too can be a red herring. Because you THINK you know where you're going. And then your path veers or new traffic startles you, and then you have to revisit what you knew you'd known.

It's complicated.

It's particularly complicated because re-deciding choices you've already chosen just feels wrong. Why exert all that excellent agonizing effort if the measures you take send you back to the beginning, regardless.

It's particularly complicated if you swerve because of new encounter. New information, new opportunities, new distractions. That which had been clean and clear in your hands no longer is. Well, you can always ignore new information, new opportunities, new distractions. But can you really? Is it the better part of wisdom to stick with your plan just because you've made it?

Maybe it's more complicated than it should be, but that doesn't make the complications dissolve into thin air.

Going back to the drawing board isn't the same as beginning again. You've come this far, and relinquishing your choices isn't easily done. Not if you've chosen carefully, anyway.

Now what?

When Dreams Are Life

In Deborah Hautzig's Second Star to the Right, she tells the tale of a daughter who follows her mother to the left - to death - in Auschwitz. The book really focuses on the next generation, in New York, and anorexic Leslie Hiller's struggle with the implications for living wholly. In the end, she chooses life: "second star to the right, and straight on 'til morning." The book was first published in 1981, and I read it then for the first of many, many times...but it is only today that I take note of the allusion to Peter Pan. Disney does a good job of paying attention, though:

Note that the song talks about dreams coming true. For the anorexic choosing health means recognizing that she has dreams to live for. Something to keep her going.

This season - the ten days from Rosh Hashanah through Yom Kippur - are about choosing life. The traditional holiday wish - כתיבה וחתימה טובה - is a prayer that we be "written and inscribed for good." In human terms, "good" means life - rather, that, by the end of Yom Kippur, we should be sealed in the Book of Life for the coming year.

Rabbi Zalman Levine, M.D., in his article, "On Fertility and Faith" (look for the article here), writes that the world approaches the Day of Judgement that is Rosh Hashanah with a need to reflect on our relationship with God on three planes: the biological (that's plain old simple physical existence - that is neither all that plain nor old nor simple); the metaphysical (let's say that's the essential individual way we connect to God - via soul or spirituality, or however you like to articulate it); and the communal (no Jew is an island, and the even as individuals, we approach God with the connection as a member of the Jewish People). Rabbi Levine considers these aspects of relationship in the context of those who are infertile, and understands the day all the better because of its connection to the prayer of the biblical Chana, perhaps the most articulate barren woman in the Bible. But in extrapolating from her to everyone, let's consider that she had a dream that she wouldn't relinquish. She could envision the future - and she wanted to bring her dream to pass.

When we do teshuvah and repent in this season of judgement and forgiveness, we choose life. We inherently dream, as we recognize our potential to be better people. We envision the future - and want to bring the better to pass. Not for nothing is the Torah called תורת חיים - a Living Torah. Or alternatively, a Torah of Life. Our personal reforms deepen our relationship with God on all the planes....and our re-dedication to living a life of Torah is an affirmation of our dreams...as we seek the future.

Quick: Online or Hard Copy?

Let's assume you read your newspaper with the text "upright."

Are you riding the subway and have folded the paper in that professional, magical way that reveals a couple of columns at a time? Or are you surfing for news during downtime at work - vertical on your computer screen?  Or are you partial to headlines on your smartphone, peering to catch the tidbits, and no more?

What dictates your choice?

A virtual newspaper lacks the satisfying rustle of that same newsprint. And for all that so many of us read our news upright these days, there's something comforting about lying on your stomach, with the paper held barely in front you, as you scan for the scores or the stocks or the weather. Then, reading the paper generates its own form of relaxation. Even reading on the train, the time is set aside for checking out the news.

The obvious (to me) advantages of reading online include avoiding the grime of newsprint. For some, reading online means more time in front of a screen. For others, it means making use of every minute in front of that screen, multitasking your news intake while awaiting results, for example. And for others, environmental concerns trump any pleasure of holding a disposable newspaper in their hands

One might argue that reading online is a different enterprise than reading hard copy - at least, if the reader is past a certain age (I'm not sure what that age is), as the New York Times noted in 2008: youngsters think reading online counts as reading, while those who began their reading careers with ink and paper have their doubts.

See here:  http://sdheadliner.com/science/study-office-workers-waste-too-much-time-reading-online-news-articles/
A study reveals that people spend a lot of their computer time reading news online. Shocker!

Me, I get my news online these days. It's to my advantage in terms of my available minutes and my available pennies. I find the Internet to be an efficient means of reading the news - and yes, I would call it reading. But my goal, in front of the screen, is fairly directed knowledge acquisition. Engaging my curiosity. Keeping up with the world's goings-on. When my purpose is the process of reading...well, then, I want a book in my hands (or newspaper or magazine, it matters little). The eye - my eyes, anyway - relate to the ink on the page differently, and it can be restorative. Especially after many hours in front of a screen.

How do you read the news these days?

(Yes, yes, I know all about the radio and the television...thanks.)

A Season of Rethinking

Yesterday, was the first month of the Hebrew month of Elul, a day that heralds a nearly two-month period of introspection, reflection, repentance, and resolution.

This post is just a teaser, but I think I'll begin my repentance and resolution with the easiest option: ending my "blog vacation" (you didn't know there was one, did you?). June's experiment of writing every day worked well for me...and while every day might become tedious for the rest of you (oh, and also me), the "frequent" approach seems to be more effective (in terms of production) than awaiting masterpieces of elocution that I have in my mind, but don't have time to create.

One day at a time...that may be the motto for the season...(and perhaps for the next 7 1/2 years, but more on that later).

Glad to be back.