The Gentile's Guide to Chanukah (or Hannukah... or Hanaka... or however you choose to spell it)

So... on this, the 2nd night of Chanukah 2008 (2nd night, right? Who knows. I can't remember if it started on Sunday night or Monday night, but whatever. Close enough.) I thought it might be prudent to give the Jewish challenged folk in my life a little lesson about this holiday which is so often misunderstood. Call it my mitzvah for the year. (Jewish Challenged People: The word "mitzvah" is Yiddish or Hebrew or something for "good deed".)

So, below are some of the FAQ I receive here in the south where Chanukah is so widely mizunderdastood.

Q. Why is Chanukah at a different time every year?
A. My ancestors thought it would be fun to keep the gentile guessing. OR... because all Jewish holidays are celebrated according to the Hebrew Calendar which is different from English calendar. Just to illustrate this point, while you non-Jews will soon be welcoming the year 2009, we Jews will be waiting until Rosh Hashana in Sept. to begin the year 5770. The Hebrew calendar is shorter than the English calendar, so the holidays move around. That's why you hear us Jews talking about "Chanukah/ Rosh Hashana/ Purim is early this year!" It's our favorite thing to talk about. (well, 2nd favorite. Our favorite thing to talk about is what we will be eating at the next meal as we consume the current meal. But I digress.)

Q. What are you celebrating at Chanukah? Does it have something to do with Christmas?
A. No. Nothing to do with Christmas at all! Zero, zilch, nada. The fact that there are presents on Chanukah and it happens around the same time as Christmas (sometimes) confuses people into thinking the two holidays are kissing cousins or something. In reality (and long story short) the Jewish temple was trashed by some bad people and after the damage was assessed, it was determined that there was only enough oil left to last one day. (Or something like that. Give me a break Jewish friends. It's been a long time since Sunday school.) But the oil lasted seven days instead and Chanukah is a celebration of that miracle.

Q. What's with the candelabra you always light?
A. That's called a menorah. It's got eight candles on it. One for each night of Chanukah and then the 8th is the candle we use to light all the others. You start out by lighting one candle the first night, two on the second, three on the third etc. There are a few prayers that you say, I think three on the first night and then two on the second. We sing them in Hebrew and that is probably atrocious for anyone who can hear. Then in the morning, after the candles have burned out, you pull out a metal skewer normally used for cooking shish-kabobs on the grill and dig out all the melted wax. (Of course, that may have just been at my parent's house.) It was always my favorite part. Strange? Yes. Are you surprised?

Q. How cool is it to get so many presents?
A. And herein lies the crux of the confusion. I can only speak for my family, of course, and the families of friends I grew up with, but here it is. You may want to sit down for this one. It's a bit of a nasty shock if you don't see it coming... Celebrating Chanukah is NOTHING like Christmas. In the past, when I have attended a Christmas celebration, I have seen orgys of present opening under the Christmas tree. Piles of presents in beautiful paper... toys... games... clothes... stocking stuffers. Good God but you all get a lot of stuff.

At Chanukah, as a child, you get about one present a night. Perhaps two. And one of them is always socks. Or some pair of shoes you don't want to have to wear to Temple. Or, worse comes to worse, Chanukah gelt. (Those are the little gold wrapped chocolate coins that come in the yellow fishnet. Gelt means "money" in Hebrew.) The gelt chocolate doesn't even really taste all that great, to be honest. So on the first night of Chanukah, you may get a gift from your parents. The next night may be from siblings. The next night, you get one from crazy Aunt Mildred who lives in Florida. She got you a sweet little hat to put on your keppie (yiddish for "head") to keep you warm in the cold Cleveland winter and if you would just come down to Florida already you wouldn't have to be so cold and then you could get a real gift. Oy, why do these meshuge (yiddish for "crazy") kids never come to visit?

So you see, all those kids who sit and picture eight whole days of Christmas Morning-style partying are so sadly mistaken. At my parent's house, as I believe I mentioned in an earlier blog, we would light the Menorah during a commercial from the evening prime time TV. Then Dad would make us march around the house singing Chanukah songs and then either make us hunt for our gifts or just give them to us. Whole thing would be over before the commercial ended. And that's not to say I didn't look forward to the holiday. I always did. I liked lighting the candles (I looked forward to lighting the match and would pick out my favorite box matches every night to use. Young pyromaniac for sure!) and digging out the aforementioned wax every morning. There was always something really peaceful, as well, about walking into the kitchen after the candles had been burning for a while and standing in the dark, watching the colorful wax melt into interesting designs onto the tin foil beneath the menorah that kept the wax from sticking to my mother's pristine counters. I always liked arranging the colors of the candles too, sometimes alternating between two colors, sometimes going with a block of color, sometimes just putting together a random sampling of colors from the blue boxes we always had in abundance because they gave them out to us at Sunday School every year.

But did I walk away from any Chanukah with an overwhelming bag of booty? No. I do remember walking away one year with an excellent new Olivia Newton John album ("Totally Hot") but that's about it.



Q. Do you and your family get together for Chanukah?
A. Another harsh truth to be faced. Chanukah is for kids. Really, it is. My parents still give me a gift every year, but that's it. I don't run around trying to find a gift for my Aunt on my mother's side or my brother-in-law's cat. In fact, I give a gift to my niece, one to my cou-niece (that's the daugher of my cousin who is more like a sister than a cousin so her daughter is more like a niece than anything else. I am her Coz-Aunt Sheri and she is my Cou-Niece Sara.) and one to my oldest friend's kids. And that's it folks. So there is really not all that much enthusiasm about getting together at Chanukah. It's not a big family holiday for us (and by "us" I mean the Reform Jews. Conservative and Orthodox Jews may feel differently, but either way, it's not a major holiday for us. Rosh Hashana is much more important!) Thanksgiving is the big winner in the Spitz house.

So those are a few of the questions I get most frequently. If you have more, by all means, ask me. I probably won't know the answers, but I can certainly point you in the direction of a website which will explain it allllllllllll.

In the meantime, I wish every reader a Happy Holiday Season and a happy healthy New Year. Shalom, out.

(Oh... yeah, Shalom means peace. And Hello and Goodbye. So it's a confusing language. What can I tell you?)

Twilight... And the Reason the Chicks Dig It

So... in case you don't already know, Twilight is the first in a series of books by Stefenie Meyer (who is strangely Mormon and NOT a Member of the Tribe... huh) which is currently making women across the country swoon and sigh in their love of vampires and werewolves and the Pacific Northwest. (Oh my?) The movie is currently burning up the box office and women have arrived in droves, waiting for their chance to see Edward and Bella fall madly in love under cover of rain and clouds while all manner of creature attempts to kill Bella, Edward's first true love in 100 years.

Last night, I went to the movie with the girls in my book club and we went out for dessert afterward to discuss the movie and book at length (aka my chance to pick the movie apart and alienate several members of my book club with my movie snob ways...) We have already decided that the second book in the series will be next month's book and some members of the BC have already finished it. One girl has finished all four in the series. So it was difficult to have the discussion without giving things away.

Let me take this opportunity to fill you in on my history with book clubs. The first one was in LA. All my girlfriends in the script world and one errant Line Producer drew straws to determine the picking order of each book. The first book was "Emma" by Jane Austin. Ouch. Very few people got through the whole thing. And based on the nature of our work lives at the time, we never really were able to get around to actually getting together to talk about it. Which was sad. The next book was by the author of Owen Meany and that further alienated any of the remaining members who were interested in reading. And we once again had an aborted attempt at meeting and discussing. Basically, by the third book, "Deliverance" (which my friend Leslie picked but was bitterly disappointed by because the "squeal like a pig" line was not in the book) it had become less of a book club and more of a suggested reading list for Sheri. We disbanded after the third book, I think.

Shortly after my arrival in Charlotte, I started one here with a few girls. The first book was a great easy read. I think it was called Ella Minnow Pea. And it was about a town where you were not allowed to use certain letters. So the actual text omitted letters from the book as the characters were no longer allowed to use them. Fun! Sometimes had to read aloud to understand, but fun none the less. We actually met, discussed the book for a few minutes before turning to celebrity gossip and picked another one. I think we continued in that vein for a few months, although once again, I became the only, or one of the only, people to read the book. Frustrating!

So one morning this summer, I was standing in line at Best Buy to buy a Wii and the girl in front of me said she might like to have a PR party with her book club. I jumped all over it and invited myself to join them. I finally met the Novelistas a few months ago and what a difference! They all actually read the book! And come to the meeting prepared! And have discussion questions ready! And don't deviate into celebrity gossip until all book business has been finished! I love it!

So, in true Novelista fashion, one of the girls had prepared a list of questions to aid in our discussion of the phenomenon that is Twilight. And one of the questions she asked was, "Why do you think this book appeals so much to women?" To me, the answer was immediate. "Because Edward is a man who says exactly how he feels and doesn't mess around with stupid 'how-many-days-til-you-call-your-babies' stuff. Plus, he is totally damaged AND really protective and will not hesitate to put his body between his woman and danger. Which is HOT!" I received resounding approval from everyone at the table from that statement. Which made me think... is that really all women want from a man? Is that all I want?

One night, a few years ago, I was out at a club with a guy I was dating and a few friends. The guy I was dating was very nice, but he was an MOT (that's Member of the Tribe, aka Jewish), really short and kind of wimpy. My friend was kind of dating a guy there who we will now refer to as Jon the Jewish Cop. (Well, I always referred to him as that because the idea was SO astounding to me! A Jewish guy who is a cop. What the F? I love it! I never actually knew his last name, really.) So we were all dancing and there was a guy behind me who was kind of weaving around. He was pretty drunk, and he kept crashing into me like he was trying to dance with me. I was completely creeped out and was kind of hoping the guy I was with would help me out. Instead it was Jon the Jewish Cop who stepped in. He came over and stood behind me, facing the drunk guy with his arms crossed... just staring him down. The guy took the hint after a few minutes and walked away. J the JC stood there a few minutes longer, staring him down as he walked away, making sure he was gone before moving. Believe me readers when I tell you, if Jon had then asked me to rob a bank, run over small puppies in the getaway car and drive right off a cliff with him, I would have answered "yes" in the breathiest voice I have. It was hot! And suddenly, I was just DONE with my date.

It's not that I consider myself a poor, defenseless woman who can't defend herself! I know how to break an attackers nose and kick him in the groin! (We all saw that episode of 90210 where Donna and Brenda and her Mom take the self-defense class and keep screaming "NO" while they attack their instructor, right?) It's just the idea that a man would put himself in harm's way for me... wow. I can't explain it. I'm sure the idea doesn't have universal appeal. Every woman is different, of course. That's why there are so many different flavors of ice cream. But I bet there a lot of women out there who know EXACTLY what I'm talking about.

So when Edward (who is emotionally available enough to say things like "I'm tired of trying to stay away from you" before there has even been a first date) drops into a defensive crouch, shielding his woman with his body and growling deep in his throat (even if it did sound like a burp in the movie... you were totally right about that Al!) it is supremely appealing. And don't even get me started on the damaged thing. I have always loved the tortured boys. It's a sickness from which I hope to never be cured.

The funny thing is, as the series goes on, more and more men are dropping into defensive crouches in front of Bella and growling deep in their throats. Poor Bella has to choose between all these protective, emotionally available, yet tortured, men! It's like Felicity all over again. Plus, at least in my head, all the men are really tall!!!

Now, some girls will protest. They will say they were drawn to the story, to the emotionally rich characters, to the suspense. They will be lying. And that's not to say there isn't a great story in there and the characters are nothing if not well drawn and emotionally rich. Stefenie Meyer is a great writer and her grown-up novel "The Host" is fantastic as well. But it's Edward that has the girls swooning at the movies. One of my girlfriends just got a life-sized cutout of Mr. Edward Cullen for her office as a gift. Is that because he is suspenseful and emotionally rich? Or cause he real hot? Personally, I don't find the actor who plays him all that attractive. But I still sighed through the movie.

I believe this makes me seem not at all deep. And I think I'm ok with that. After all, I have dated plenty of guys who were none of the above. And I even liked them a lot. But one of my favorite dating memories is of the Green Beret I went out with for a while. We went to the movies one time and he was playing a video game with a prop gun and after watching him shoot the gun and then break his wrist after each shot, reaim and fire again, I said to him, "I'm not sure if I am totally grossed out or COMPLETELY turned on." He responded with quite the lacivious wink as if to say, "I know which one you are..."

And he wasn't wrong.

Someone Please... Save Me From Myself

So... over the years, I have had many people whom I have imagined are trying to "do me in." You can call me paranoid. I prefer to think of it as confidence challenged. Whatever your definition, there have been plenty of times in my life where I have regarded people and thought to myself "You are trying to make me unhappy. Deliberately trying to make my life miserable for sport."

Now, let's be fair about this, cause many of those people whom I was sure were attempting to ruin me were "talent" on a show. My fellow scripties will probably recognize this emotion. Where some stupid talent comes in at rehearsal (or even worse... minutes before they step out on stage for the show) and changes all their copy. I was always sure it was just to torture me! Just to show that they were a big important celebrity (yes, Kevin Spacey, I'm talking to you!!!) and that I am a little peon with a pencil and a 3-ring binder who is there strictly to do their bidding. Sometimes it wasn't talent at all, but crew. Stage managers... producers... teleprompter... all out to get me and rob me of my chance for sleep. So these paranoid moments might be just a wee bit self-centered and probably can be discounted. In my own defense, I was probably really tired at the time.

But I do believe that at one time or another, there have been a few people out there who were torturing me just because they could. And hey... that's fine. I mean, it only works if I let it, right?

Here's the problem tho. Lately, I have begun to wonder if perhaps the person who is most determined to bring about my personal ruin is none other than... well, me.

There have been people whom I have gotten to know at one point or another in my life who seemed to have such a busy head that I was sad for them. Sad that their head must be such a crowded place... so full of business and stress that there must seem like no escape. I wondered how these people could function without exploding.

But what I have realized recently is that the above description can oftentimes describe my own head. Good Lord but I can torture myself. Like a pro. Like I'm being paid! (Would that I could...) There are so many different thoughts racing around in there, I don't know what to do with them half of the time. I think that's why I am so obsessed with music and reading. And TV. Cause that's when the thoughts go away. The voices shut up.

Ok, yeah, I said voices. There was a time in my life, before I became a 12-steper, where there was a constant battle in my head between Voice A and Voice B. A & B were constantly at odds with one another. One trying to be the disciplinarian and the other trying to be the child. I remember that being the miracle of my first day in an OA meeting. All of a sudden, after 29 years of fighting with myself in my head, it was like someone hit the mute button. I don't think I even realized how loud it was in there until it stopped. I remember wanting to cry from relief. I could actually just sit still and listen to myself breathe, something I would never have been able to do before.

A & B beat a hasty retreat as I became immersed in the 12 steps and found my way to recovery. The great news is that they haven't really ever come back. At least, not for long. I will always be grateful to Bill W. for that.

The voices I hear now are different. They are quieter, a bit mellower and usually kinder. And they do serve their purpose. But they also doubt. They imagine... and not in a great way. They hear drama where there is none and whisper doubts when I am desperately trying to find some confidence. And they don't stop talking unless there is a distraction (hence the constant background noise in my life.)

Is it a Gemini thing? I usually make a joke out of that one... someone asks me who I went to the movies with the other day and I say, "Oh, just me and my other personalities." I'm not a big believer in Astrology, but it does seem to fit me pretty well. There is certainly a touch of crazy about me. I mean, for the love of God, I sell sex toys for a living!!! I am definitely living off the beaten path. And I do like that about myself. I have never wanted to live an uninteresting, untested life.

But the question is, how do I get away from my own mind? How do I take a vacation from self-doubt and the certainty that the things I want the most are always going to be just beyond my reach? I'm open to suggestions from the peanut gallery. If you have an idea, send it on baby!

I do consider myself a happy person and my life to be pretty damn fulfilling. There is nothing that I want so desperately that if I don't get it my life will feel like a waste. And I'm grateful for that. Cause there are plenty of folk out there who will always yearn for something and never be satisfied without it. I have balance. Nine times out of ten, I'm content. I have very few regrets. But every once in a while, some little voice in my head will gleefully suggest, "Hey, let's get out those journals from high school and read about how miserable we were then." And another sinister little voice says, "Hey, what a great idea!" I did that the other morning and I spent the next two hours trying to pull my head out of a fog, trying to remind myself that I am, in fact, 35 and not 16 and that other stuff is far, far in the past. Long, long ago. And many moons behind me.

The point is, what do you do when you can't escape the friend who is a bad influence and constantly talks you into doing stupid things. Nothing so bad that your life will be inextricably altered, but bad enough that it stings. How do you stop this friend from pushing you to make the same stupid mistakes over and over? After all, as Bill W. taught us, the very definition of insanity is repeating the same action while expecting a different result. Can a person escape their own mind?

Once again, I have no answer to this tirade. That's often the case when I try to get serious here. And I'm not even 100% sure I should publish this. It's more personal than I like to get in a public forum. It could be I wrote this just to get it out of my head. Make some room in there for something else. Or maybe I am just looking for confirmation... looking for someone else to tell me that they have the same problem. Maybe my head wouldn't feel so crowded if I knew that other people felt cramped in their own mind as well. Whatever the reasoning, my head is awful full at the moment. Full of worry over things I can't control, things I can't do anything about.

So if someone could help me find the mute button, I would be so grateful.