What's Wrong With This?

This is a comment that was posted on the "Return Again" blog entry.

"I think israel is an amazing place you know that I do and I love it but i know that if I take a year out of school I wont be able to get back into it."

I'm quite busy these days so I'm hoping for some people to post responses to the poor reasoning of this statement. I mean talk about your lame excuses not to go to Israel for the year. What do you say people?

Magic and Magnificence: Guster Meets The Boston Pops

This Thursday night I had the greatest musical experience of my life. I drove all the way to Boston and back within a 12 hour time frame to see Guster and the Boston Symphony Orchestra (aka "The Boston Pops"), perhaps the most prestigious orchestra in America. The show was so spectacular I would have driven cross country to experience it. I've always said that Guster's songs were orchestral, and the guys finally had the chance to prove me right.
To give you an idea of how great a statement me calling it the "greatest musical experience of my life", allow me to briefly share some past memories. There was U2 in the Garden for the Elevation Tour, which was post 9/11 and was incredibly emotional for me, as they worked the concert into a semi-tribute to all that perished that day. I saw R.E.M. twice at the Garden, both times less that 10 rows from the stage, and right in the center. I orchestrated and conducted the most bitchen of Camp Hillel alma matta's (the magnificent "Summer Days", based on, of course, Guster's "Either Way"). I saw Blues traveler and Guster (there they are again) while in love, and had a wonderful time at both. When I was 18 I waited in line for 8 hours to meet the Smashing Pumpkins and then briefly see them play. I reached an unprecedented spiritual high seeing Lanzbom and Solomon in Israel, and had a close second to that last summer when seeing the Moshav Band in L.A. with Yachad. I got to experience the beauty of 2 John Williams concerts, 1 of which I shared with my sister and two nephews- twas a magical night. I've also had the pleasure of rocking out at two LIVE shows, Stabbing Westward, and Ozzy Osbourne and Rob Zombie (though I wouldn't see those guys today). There was also the two Bet Shemesh Festivals (the apotheosis for experiencing Jewish musica today), and seeing Journey and Styx at the Nassau coliseum. There's more but that's enough for now. All in all I've had some excellent musical experiences in my life, and all pail in comparison to Thursday night.

I almost didn't go. I bought these tickets months ago under very different circumstances. I had planned to go with someone else. Obviously things didn't work out. But I still had the tickets, and the lengthy drive to Boston. Rather than give in to depression, I said "screw it", made the arrangement and decided to go. I took along my favorite sidedish (love you!! :) and we had a most excellent adventure through time, I mean the northeast. We sat in the first row of the second balcony (anyone who ever plans to go to a symphony you must sit in the balconies if you wish to see all the instruments) , and were surprised but intrigued by the makeup of the crowd. There were you basic under-30 hardcore Guster fans (all dressed appropriately for the occasion, giving the show endearing class) and the other half of the crowd were the Boston Pops season ticket holders: mainly elderly elitists WASPS and Jews,and a few middle-aged folk- not your typical Guster fans.
The show opened with Guster coming ou and introducing "A hot, and upcoming local band....the Boston Pops!", and the orchestra playing 2 classical pieces, and one new "hyper piano" piece written by an M.I.T. professor. It was OK. Then after the intermission the Gusterites came out, and magic started to happen. They opened with the melodic, liberal and emotional "I Spy", and once the strings came in to support the end of the first verse we knew that the night was going to be every minute of the arduous journey. All the people in my section were clearly Gusteroids and we all looked around at each other thinking the same thing: "Is it OK to sing along?" The answer turned out to be no, or least seemed to be that way based on the crowds unwillingness to accompany Ryan and Adam on the vocals. We were treating this like a real night at the symphony, and so acted appropriately (until the end-more on this in a bit). Every second of the show was like an intoxicating adrenalin rush. We sat in anticipation of what would be played, and then reveled in the glory of the pieces once they were. I found the set-list to be satisfactory. They played 3 new songs from there upcoming album, so it was hard to ascertain the changes from the original version to the orchestrated ones, though all three were quit catchy and reverberated well. They played the under developed "Backyard", which was given a little more umph with the Pops, though I still think something's missing. The bands most famous song "Fa Fa Fa", seemed to be reborn out of the overplayed, cliched marshes it had been sinking in. It was like hearing it for the first time, and getting caught once more in its catchiness (I make up my own words :). It seemed like things couldn't be any better after Ryan, Adam, Brian, Joe and the 60 people in the pops played the fan-favorite "Two Points For Honesty", but it seemed they were saving the best for last.

I had predicted and hoped that they would play "Come Downstairs and Say 'Hello' " as it was my most favorite song on "Keep it Together", and thought it would go well with an orchestra, and sweet fancy magillacutty was I ever right. "Wow", "Unreal", "Magnificent", are just a few adjectives I could use to describe this awe-inspiring (there's another one! ) composition, but I think only one word truly captures the essence of the experience: SCHWAAA~~~~~. They two bands hit a grand slam on this one. Ryan's vocals were piercing and harmonious. Adam's bass set the perfect beat, and his singing, as always, blended perfectly with Ryan's. Brian drumming was eneergetic, and completely engaging. The strings on the orchestra illuminated the whole theater, while the woodwinds sent waves of positive energy through the crowdThe elderly crowd was slowly getting into the show (many of them were 80-years-old if they were a day) as it progressed, and by the time Guster came out for their final encore (and telling the crowd "Feel free to get out of your seats, and sing along and do whatever you would do at a normal Guster concert) and once more played "Downstairs" it seemed like they were bonafide Guster-heads. Along with the rest of the crowd, they clapped along to the beat and then they actually started dancing!!! The senior citizens, swayed, bopped, clapped and even jumped to the magic on the moment. There was even a small group of the elderly in wheel chairs and some using walkers who got into a circle, joined hands and danced in place to the song. It was truly a beautiful sight, and I'm glad I have the pictures to prove it.
By the end of the show the whole theater was united in a general appreciation, if not love for the majesty of the songs written by the great Guster. I know that in the coming year I will probably be making many changes, and as I walked out of that theater (after going down to the stage and getting one of Adam's pics!) and saw a very old Orthodox, Jewish man coming out as well, trodding along with his walker, showcasing a genuine smile , I knew that I would always love them Guster's and be thankful for their magnificent music. On this night they managed to do something quite difficult: bridge the musical gap bewteen three generations.

As me and the sidedish made our may back to NY (getting home at 2:00 AM, as I actually sped for the first time in my life), my body was downright tired, but it was able to stay awake, and coherent as I was still recovering from the magnificence of the wondrous night.

If you're not a Guster fan get started now: www.Guster.com

(And this was the short version of the story- I didn't even talk about dinner, mincha, waiting to see the band after the show- funny story there, the Mets game on the way and a few other things, so be thankful for that!)

Return Again

"Once more into the breach, dear friends..."
-Henry V

It's official: I will not only be in in Israel for the summer, but also next year, and maybe beyond. The truth is I'm not really sure how long. Everyone who knows about this has asked me how long I'll be there, and all I can answer is "As long as it takes." I may just make Israel my new home (something I hope to do later in life either way). Right now I'm not really sure, and in many ways that's sort of the point.
I feel like I'm in a good place, or at least as good a place as I could be in, and yet I'm still confused in many areas of my life. I truly want to be the best I can be, and I feel going to Israel is the way to accomplish this goal. I don't know if it's arrogant to say this, but I do feel I am capable of doing great things, I just need the proper guidance and state of mind to accomplish them.

Believe me, making this decision wasn't easy. There was a lot to consider. I would be leaving the Mets during playoff season (which may sound trivial, and perhaps should be, but if the Mets make the post-season it will be tough for a die-hard like myself to miss), I would be leaving my family, many of my friends, my job, my life as I know it. And it's all for the best. In Israel I'll have my best friend, and another very close friend, who I'm sure I'll be even tighter with by the end of the summer (G-d willing the three of us can be as close as we once were). Plus I'll be rooming with another good friend as well. Several of my cousins will also be with me in Israel. So in the friends and family departments I should be OK. I guess the bigger question is the job.
Well, this was perhaps the toughest part of the decision. I really do enjoy my work, and am actually making a decent amount of money for someone my age. But as I was weighing my decision I came to several conclusions. I talked to a lot of people and many of them said the same thing, "Man I wish I could go back to Israel. It would really do me a lot of good." And the truth is, many of them could go to Israel, they're just afraid to. Obviously it would involve making some sacrifices, but it might be the best thing for them (I'm of the opinion that one doesn't generally grow by hanging out in bars and clubs in his/her spare time- though I'd love to hear an argument for it). I also spoke to some high-schoolers I know, who aren't planning to go to Israel (including Shira!- that's right you get a public shoutout for your evil intentions)- WHAT IS THAT?! For the older more established people the reasoning basically came down to either school, money or being "too old". For the youngsters it was just them being in a rush to be in college and growing up, or a fear of getting religious. Everyone needs to slow down, and see the big picture. Look, I'm 23. I'm not the most mature person I know, but I do recognize that I am more of an adult than some of my friends of a similar age, and conversely I see many of my other friends who are much more adult than me. In some ways I'm "old" and in others I see that I'm quite young. I recognize that I have much more growing that I NEED to do. In order to achieve whatever greatness I'm capable of, I must do what needs to be done. I cannot let material and hedonistic distractions get in the way of this, and money is certainly the king of that. I'll still be making some $ in Israel, but I would be making a lot more in America. It was tough but I did have to quite my job as it is now, however, I will still be involved with the organization in many important ways, and will work (and get paid) on a more free lance scale. And so be it. I let money hurt my life once, I am not going to do it again. G-d willing there will be plenty of opportunities to make the Kesef in the future. And it's the future that I am most thinking about. My hopes, which are in no way foolish in this area, are that I will achieve extensive growth (particularly spiritually, psychologically, and emotionally) over the next year(s) of my life, and in doing so will be able to improve on all the facets of myself for the future .

All you guys and girls who say you admire what I'm doing and are envious can do the same(OK so there's only 4 people like this I know of right now, but I'm betting there's more) . Sure you can come up with "good" excuses not to. But if deep down you think it'll be best for you to pick up and go, then you're only cheating yourself by not going. And it doesn't even nececarily have to be Israel. It can be anything. But if you are like I was, and see that you're not leading the life you truly want, then it's time to take a different plunge, and re-invent, re-establish, and return to who you reall are. So many of us were more mature and spiritually sound at age 20 than we are now at age 22 or 23 or 24 (and even older in many cases-just go to the Upper West Side, you'll se what I mean), but we allow ourselves to revert, to be corrupted, to do the wrong thing, and though we may not admit it, we do suffer as a result. If I have to "sacrifice" a year or two of my life in order to better establish myself, then so be it. If I stay where I am not I do believe I won't be able to attain the kind of happiness and resolve I seek.
I am very nervous about this, and even a little afraid. Yet conquering fear is one of my top goals, so I will do my darndest to stay positive and simply focus on the fact that I know I'm doing the right thing. I spent too much time over the last few years doing a lot of the wrong things and plents of nothings as well. I forgot how hard it was not only to do the right thing, but not do the wrong thing. Right now I just want to focus on doing what I believe is right, and not giving into seemingly good, but ultimately lame excuses to avoid doing so.
So back I go. The first time out it was a disaster. Round two I made worlds of improvement, but wasn't focused enough and didn't achieve a few of my goals. Hopefully the third time around I'll get it just right. I'll let you know in a year.

Who's Your Daddy?

Perhaps this wasn't the best title in the connotative sense, but it was either that or "Papa Can You Hear Me", and I'll be damned if I'm titling a blog off of Streisand.

Well it's "Father's Day", or as I like to call it:"Hallmark Enterprises Strikes Back". I did my usual Great Neck thing, went to a nice staff meeting, then to Teaneck for some business, and stayed there for a Fathers Day BBQ with some of my family, although my papa didn't come. Aside from enjoying baseball, Leslie Nielson, a genuine love for Israel and our last name, my dad and I don't have a whole lot in common (he thinks Guster is a kind of of fruit snack with juice in the middle). However if there's one thing I admire and respect him for, it's his "Just another day" attitude towards the Greeting Card Conceived Holidays- these are Valentine's Day, Mother's Day (though my mom doesn't share his beliefs in this regard, so he must concede slightly on this day), and of course Father's Day. This is one more item we have in common as I too feel these days are a crock of $%#@! (my family also doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving, but that's another blog). Of course the sentiment behind these days is nice, but let's be realistic, they were created by corporate greed, not love. It may be a cliche,' but every day should be Father's Day (and if you really feel you need a day to celebrate him then that's what birthday's are for). It's almost as if one can get away with "ignoring" ones father for 364 days out of the year, just as long as he/she makes a little effort (perhaps with a Hallmark card?) on this day. Sorry but I'm not for it. In fact the only reason I went to the BBQ was because I wanted to say goodbye to some of my family before I went away for well, a very long time it seems....oh and the food was free so....

Two weeks ago I took my dad to a Mets game, and even though they didn't win ("The Mets Lose"- wink, wink :), I think we had about as good a time as was possible ( considering our lack of things in common and that we don't generally "connect"). For me this was a big deal. Baseball is a game of fathers and sons, and its perhaps the best if not perfect place for an "Av" and a "Ben" to bond, or at least attempt bonding. I had been trying to go to a game with my dad for the last three seasons, but he was in no hurry to see the last place Mets. Now my dad is a Mets fan (just not as loyal as me) and a baseball fan, but I think a good deal of his heart for the game withered when the Dodgers left Brooklyn. But this season with (at the time) the Mets playing pretty good baseball, and my now perfected ability to go to a Mets game and spend $0 on the night, my father agreed to come. This was the first time I can remember that just my dad and I went to a game in over 10 years -during the 2001 season I know we went once, but I'm not 100% sure whether or not one of my brothers came as well. This time though it was just father and middle-son. We talked baseball, were amazingly patient with the three loudest, most obnoxious 10-year-olds sitting next to us, and still managed to have a nice night at a ballgame. There was no big breakthrough in our relationship, or no incredible Mets comeback we could talk about. One might even say the night was a little dull, but it did mean a lot to me, and I hope on some level it meant something to him too- I know one of my dreams in life is to G-d willing, take my own son to Mets game (BLEE EYEN HORA). I took my dad because I wanted to do something nice with him, and for no other reason than that. I didn't do it because of the social pressure a corporate-made holiday that most directly benefits Hallmark and sporting goods stores inflicted upon me. Anyday can be Fathers Day, and there should probably be more than one.

"Holy Inspiration, Batman!"

What can I say? Things are good right now. Ah still be happy y'all (blee eyen hara). Thanks for all the positive feedback from the last blog (both on and off the site). It wasn't easy to share, and was an experimental risk in terms of style, but I'm really glad that it left a positive effect.

I just got back from a swell night in Brooklyn (I know, Brooklyn! What the heck is going on here?!), with swell people (ahhhh Irony: I finally get a great chevra I'm totally comfortable with and don't have to compromise my values for, and I'm leaving in 3 weeks!). We saw Batman Begins and I must say it was excellent- as good as Burton's original, maybe better (there were also Dunkin Donuts involved, but out of my respect for the wonderful world of Krispy Kreme I'll say no more). Bravo to the casting director of the film. As a fan of the comics and animated series I was impressed by the A-list actors hired to play secondary, but pivotal characters (e.g. Gary Oldman as commissioner Gordon, Morgan "Drop Dead Sexy" Freeman as Lucious Fox, and Michael Caine is perfect as Alfred).Christian Bale reinvented the Batman persona, adding new menace, angst and brooding authority to the Dark Knight, whose image was marred by the likes of Adam West, Val Kilemer and George Clooney (not that I don't like those guys, just not as Batman). Michael Keaton still gets props in my book, however.

One quick mussery note. Aside from conquering ones fears (which is mussery in its own right), the main theme of the film seems to be:"It's not who you are underneath, but what you do that defines you." Truly Batman speakith the emet. Indeed it isn't what we say or what we feel, but what we actually do in life that shows who we really are. I can blab all I want about being a write, but until I have a finished product I'm all talk. And in the religious sense I can justify this not-so-kosher act, or find a reason not to do this or that mitzvah, but all I'm doing is succumbing to the yetzer hara's affinity for inaction. When we act, we can accomplish. My Rebbe always says "Actions influence feelings". Combine this with Batman's motif and you got yourself a good formula for growth.

I have to say that I found the film to be quite inspiring as well. I find that inspiration is a key element in fueling ones groth, and for myself (and many others) the cinema can often fulfill this inspirational need, if only briefly. Yet sometimes that initial push is all a person needs. As a general rule, most people enjoy watching films were people work on themselves and achieve amazing goals. This is why we love Rocky, Rudy, Groundhog Day (one my Top 5, and the BEST.MUSSER.MOVIE.EVER) Gattaca (very underrated film) and maybe even The Mighty Ducks (I blame channel 11 for ruining a good thing in this case). But what separates real life from the cinema in this regard, is that what can sometimes take years in the world of the film, is shown in a few niftily edited minutes. Yes, these moments generally fuel us as we work out (also known as the Rocky IV syndrome), but does that inspiration really last? Obviously if seeing Bruce Wayne become Batman can trigger some sort of inner emotional resonance, instilling a desire to grow in some way, then there is something to these little montages. But we have to keep in mind the big picture: that true growth and achievement takes a great deal of time and hard work. What makes Batman such a great character is that he must go through hell, both in his personal life, and in his training, to become a "super" hero (yes the fact that he's a billionare helps, but I assure you that if Bill Gates put on the Batsuit and had all of Batmans gizmos he'd probably die in say 8 minutes, 10 tops). Yet Batman has no super powers, which has always made him easier to identify with. He's a guy who just works hard to achieve his goals. Superman, Spiderman, the X-Men, and most of their friends didn't really have to do anything to become superheroes. They were either born with or received superpowers through no effort of their own. In fact if you traded Superman into this plot, the movie would be around 5 minutes long. Superman puts in maybe 5% of the effort that Batman does. The Caped Crusader stands as a symbol of what one can accomplish if properly motivated (of course in relation to the film there's a great deal of hyperbole- obviously I wouldn't reccomend becoming a vigilante dressed up like a winged, nocturnal-mammal, but the sentiment for growth is there nonetheless.) These days I'll take inspiration where I can find it, but have no qualms about finding it in a film. One who is inspired wants to achieve, and that is certainly me. I'm not looking to clean up Gotham, but I am certainly looking to make a better life for myself, and in this effort must be given to the Nth degree. I just have to keep focused, be strong, and of course stay inspired. I know it'll take more than Batman to do that, fortunately I have goals that I want to attain, which may be motivation enough for me right now.

So yes, while watching the movie I wanted to go out and do great things, and maybe I will as a result, but for right now all the movie has done is entertain me for 140 minutes and give me a good topic to blog about.

Rockbottom

It's the end of March. The last two months of your life have been, well, strange and sordid, to say the least. You've been, angry and/or apathetic, wanting to just get away and turn away from yourself. Why? Well, because things weren't supposed to be this way. Everything's all wrong. You just turned 23 last week, and you sure as hell are not supposed to be here. But where exactly is "here" you ask? Why, you're in the heart of Boston waiting on line to get into a skeezy club for their "Ultimate Purim Bash". You've been betrayed by the idea that it's Spring. It's damn cold out and you're standing on line freezing your behind off, trying to stand as close to your large friend, and his equally large pal, hoping they'll obsorb most of the windchill. You look around at the people waiting on line. A lot of them don't look Jewish...unless there are large Asian and Indian (in the Hindu sense) Jewish communities in Boston you don't know about. And even if they are, they must be doing a horrible job in preaching tznius.
You're still a good 20 minutes from the door and start to think. "What have you been doin the last 2 months guy? This isn't you. You know it's not you.C'mon get in a cab and go back to the apartment and get your car, and call it a night. It ends here." You dismiss this intrusion of consciousness, and rub your hands together, trying to keep them warm. Ahead, a bunch of high school kids who don't have ID are not allowed into the club.They start a ruckus, but the manitee-like bouncer asserts himself and they quickly leave. A gust of wind hits you hard and rips past your button-down shirt, through your wife beater, and right into your chest. "Oh cm'n! Give me one good reason to stay here!" You tell yourself that if you leave, your friends will think that your judging them. This is something you've been working on: not judging people. Maybe you've been too hard or condemning of some friends who weren't leading lifestyles you approved of. If you leave now you might be reverting. You don't like the idea of that. Coming back from a friends birthday party last week (which was at a bar, of course- what ever happened to parties at bowling alley's and movie theaters?) one of your closer friends has told you that the "new" you was more "fun" and "easy going", and you took this is as complement(well the latter part at least), but oddly responded that that you didn't feel that this way the "real you", and that deep down you know you want to be someone else, but that right now it's too hard.

Back on the line. Ten people to go and you're there. You see a girl up ahead you thought was cute over Shabbos. Earlier in the day she was dressed for the spring, wearing a nice white skirt with flowers on it, and a light blue blouse that was the perfect blend of tznius and sexy. You've always been more attracted to girls who dress more tzniusly. To be demure is to be alluring. Now 7 hours later, and 17 degrees cooler, she's wearing tightass ass pants (there they are again!), and a low-cut leopard like half-top (or something like that, your not really sure of the name), with cleavage to match. "That's a damn shame", you think, and your attraction to her is no more. And there you are again, making a judgment of someone you just met. But there's no time to dwell on that because finally you're at the door! The moment of truth has arrived. It's your last chance. Stay or go? Is one right and one wrong? Is there really a choice? Admittedly a part of you does want to leave, but in the end you don't want to let your friends down (or so you tell yourself) and decide to go in. Fortunately while all your other friends have to pay an insulting $20 entrance fee, you manage to get in for free. You've always been good and getting in for free, and there's no reason not to here.
Inside it looks like something out of the Matrix Zion-dance scene in either the second or third film (both so awful, you've tried to erase them from your memory). "This is what S'dom must have been like", you half-joke to yourself. You see some people you know dancing, and at first you want to cry. "This is a to celebrate Purim! This is how we show our thanks to G-d!" No, you won't allow yourself to think that way. You meet up with your friends who aren't dancing. You smell a hint of marijuana in the air, and it upsets you, triggering memories you'd rather forget. Then on cue, some dude offers you a hit. This isn't the first time you've been offered drugs, and it won't be the last. You're more tempted now than you've ever been. In the past it was much easier. You never wanted to be "that kind of guy". You think maybe a quick hit will shut yourself up and let you enjoy the night. Yet, you decide not to. You're not really sure why, but in many ways you are. Maybe it's because you just caught sight of the girl your technically still "involved" with. She's very nice,cute, understanding,thinks way too highly of you than she should, and you're 100% sure it's never going to happen between the two of you. She can tell something's wrong (she's also much smarter than you), and asks. You say that your OK, and that it's just a little loud in the club. She asks you if you'd like a drink. You tell her you just had a Sky Blue (and you are not ashamed of this) and aren't thirsty. She asks if you'd like to dance, and you decline. You say that you're thinking of leaving soon. She retorts that you just got here, and it'd be a waste of 20 bucks. You say you didn't pay but that you guess you'll hang around a little more. She says she'll check up on you in a bit and to cheer up. She goes back to dance, and you can't help but look on disapprovingly, but once more you fight off this inclination.
You run into two guys you haven't seen in about 2 years. You used to be their dorm counselor, and they knew you as "The Guy". You're downright ashamed that they see you in this place. "Guy!", they shout. You hug, ask how they're doing and know what question is coming next. Nearly every guy from back then has asked it in some way. Sure enough the shorter one inanely says, "So, you here with your wife?" You knew it was coming, were prepared for it, and have been dealing with it for over a year. But whenever someone asks "Are you married?", "Weren't you supposed to be getting engaged?" etc... It still hurts a bit, and yet you feel some relief at the same time. You tell the guys that you never got married. The one that asked looks embarrassed and the other guy (who has clearly been drinking) laughs at him and says "Way to make a jackass out of yourself dude!" You tell him it's OK, and not to worry about it, "Seriously you didn't know. It's cool", you say, doing your best to alleviate his embarassment. You tell them to take care and all the best...
You wander off to the side. You've been here for exactly 15 minutes as the clock on your phone tells you. You are not happy. You look around, but not only do you look, you see. You see all the wrong in the room. You see the slutty women, exposing as much flesh as legally possibly. You see the sleazy guys trying as hard as they can to be cool and hopefully "get some". You see alcohol and drugs being used as devices of escape and seduction. You see your life, and where you are, and you're starting to see what you have to do. Fortunately you also hear. You love music, always have, and whatever they're playing in this club isn't it. It's a synth beat, with a bass so heavy you feel your teeth vibrate at every hit. You feel gross, and just have to get out of there. You find your buddy you came with and tell him that you're out. He asks why, and you simply say "this isn't my thing". He understands ( he was surprised you were coming in the first place). He's a good friend, and knows you well. You might have disagreements on life-styles, but know you can always count on each other.He wishes you a goodnight, and you wish him one in return. You give each other a man hug (clapping your right hands together, closing in on the chest, and patting each other on the back twice with the left hand). You go say goodnight to some other "friends" you have there, knowing full well that as nice as they are, they're just not the type of people you can really be friends with- at least not right now. You find that girl and tell her you're leaving if she wants a ride, but that you need to take a cab back to your buddy's apartment to pick up your car. She's indecisive. She is concerned for you, and does want to go with you, but doesn't want to leave her friends. You tell her it's more than OK if she stays. After some more back and forth she agrees to stay, much to your relief. You basically spring out of the club, hail a cab, overtip the driver, get into your car, and start the 20 minute drive back to the Deis. You put your Dell Dj on. It's set to shuffle. "Sunshine" comes on by the MBC. You think about the last year of your life. You get flooded with emotion. You can't hold it in. The guilt is engulfing you. There's no one around so you let it out. The tears fall, and with them comes relief, understanding, and even a sense of freedom . "But you didn't so anything that bad", you say, trying to comfort yourself. But you're not sure if that's true. You were once much "higher" than this. And the place you're in now is significantly lower. And it hurts. You "feel" again, but doubt that it'll last. So in those moments in the early morning you decide, that as hard as it may be, you will make sure you never get to a point like this again. All the BS of the last two months stops here. You can't promise you'll reattain your former status, but you ain't sinking any more. And over the next few months you make great progress. With the exception of a few nights in bars (and you eventually decide to give those up too), you've been good (you even manage to turn down the advances of a pretty hot girl). You feel yourself growing, yet aren't fully inspired yet. You don't feel as much as you used to. But you're happier than you've been in a long time. So for the time being that's enough.

BETRAYED!!

"But things were going so well...."

I'm sure we've all been let down at some point in our lives. It's inevitable. We don't always get we wan, that's just life. Sometimes you have the power to change these things, sometimes you don't. Then there are those occasions where you either put your fate in someone else's hands or put your neck on the line for them. You take a risk maybe becuase you're friends with s/o and want to help them out, or because they make promises to you that you hope they keep. Whatever the reason, you try to be a good friend, and do what you think is the right thing.
I recently put my neck on the line for a friend. I hooked him up with a great job he really wanted, which he swore he would take no matter what came up, even thoguh there seemed to be some logistical problems in the way. My boss had concerns about hiring this guy, but I vouched for him, putting my own selfworth on the line. To make a long, painful story short, my friend simply screwed me over... Big Time. This isn't one of those cases where I was "kind of" wrong "a little" on my own (and those of you who know me know I'm very good at admitting when I am wrong). In this case my friend was 100% wrong. He knows it too. He feels bad, but that doesn't get me out of the huge pit I'm in right now. When you give someone your word, that has to mean something, especially when they risk something to do you a favor. Unless it's life or death (or maybe married or single) once you give your word to someone and they go out of there way to help you, you have have to stick to your word no matter what comes up (whether it's money, ideological differences, or even a change of heart). To renege in such a case is simply wrong. You putting yourself before the person who helped you is perhaps the most selfish of actions, it is a test of the yetzer hara, one it seems, its easy to fail.
I love helping out my friends, I truly consider it a privledge (and I know I could use the mitzvot). I'm doing my best here to control my anger, to do the right thing, to be a mentsch. But it's hard when someone betrays you. I guess blogging about it is the best way to let out my frustrations. Yet this betrayal is going to have a bunch of long term consequences, which basically just sucks for me, but there's not much I can do about it.
Did I learn anything out of this? Very little actually. The only thing I learned is not to trust this perticular friends anymore. I think I'd still be willing to put my neck on the line for the people I consider to be my friends (and there is a definitive line between friend and "acquantence"). I also hope in time that me and "The Betrayer" can look back on this and laugh, though I don't think it'll be soon, and I think that laugh in the future could very well be patronizing from my end.

ONE FINE DAY

Yesterday, June 5th, was one of the greatest days I've had in my entire life. It was also the first time I can remember being truly happy since about mid-November. As I've felt myself growing steadier and stronger over the last few weeks, my confidence, security, and ability to ward off the yetzer hara have grown stronger as well. It was almost like a day like this was inevitable, and I am most grateful for it- which reminds me! I didn't say maariv yet...
8 Minutes Later-
So I guess your all wondering what made this such an exceptional day? Well I'll tell you. But like any other great days that I've had it was a continuous flow of happy moments.
I suppose I should start with the previous night as June 5th technically started at midnight. I was in this bar on 97th and Broadway (I know the name but I can't remember it right now) with some friends, and friends and friends. Now I must go on record saying that I'm not, nor have I ever been a big fan of hanging out in bars (though I've certainly been to my share over the last 7 months). First off, I'm not a big drinker. I don't like liquor or beer, and tend to stray towards "girlie" drinks such as Sky Blue (yeah hashgacha!), wine, and daqueries- AND I HAVE NO PROBLEM WITH THIS. There is a moronic amount of pressure to drink "manly" drinks if your a guy- you know what, I'll save this for a later blog. As I was saying, I don't like bars. I find them loud, generally sleazy (ok has anyone been to a bar in NY or Boston that remotely resembles "Cheers"?), expensive, somewhat poisonous, and I've never walked out of one feeling like I've accomplished anything. This was all going through my head last night, and I decided then and there that that's it not for me, my bar days are over(to those of you who know the story behind my lengthy "streak", it was a similar feeling). The person I know I want to be deep down just isn't a bar patron.
As all this occurred to me it was a little after 12, and I remembered it was almost time for my nightly chavrusah with my "favorite side dish", which we've been doing faithfully since he came back from Israel mid-May. I told my friends I had to go, and why, and they were completely understanding (all good folk who live in 5k, especially the visiting Big O and....."PHIL?"). So I headed back to the apartment, finally feeling like I actually did something positive after leaving a bar. My chavrusah called a few minutes later, we learned, it was quite good, and I promptly went to sleep.
I awoke the next morning not expecting much. I davened, didn't really have breakfast (though the 5kers are some of the nicest guys around, they seem to be grocery-impaired), and ended up watching 2/3 of "Meet Joe Black", a movie I find to be underrated. Then me and my buddy Josh had a decent lunch at Cafe Roma and walked from W91 st all the way to E56 St. As it was gorgeous out today, we both highly enjoyed the walk down to the Israeli Day Parade.
As a child I hated the parade, and I'm guessing many of you felt the same. It wasn't the parade or the ideologies behind it, it was that we were basically forced to give up our Sunday for school, we didn't like the long walk, and we didn't like the lack of freedom, and dress code that we had to endure the day of the parade. Now as an adult I truly had a wonderful time. It was beautiful seeing so many types of Jews march in support of Israel. It was as close a sense of unity among Klal Yisroelas I've ever seen outside of Israel (even if those Chussids marred the experience with there inane protests). I was moved, feeling that engulfing wave of spirituality that had rarely been making its way onto the shore of my life in recent months. It helped me take another step closer towards a particular decision that could change my life forever.
I was also highly affected by how many loved ones I saw today. As I had to briskly walk from 60th to 90th st as I actually had work today, it seemed I couldn't go 200 feet without someone calling my name. And the great thing about it was that they were almost all people I was genuinely happy to see. I was flagged down by good friends, family members, people I've recruited for the summer, and campers I hadn't seen in a while. It was a wonderful feeling, and I felt truly loved for the first time in about a year (parental/grandparental love doesn't count). I only felt one hug I received today was somewhat out of left-field, yet it was by someone who (I guess) felt I did him a big favor by hooking up him and his fiance with jobs this summer (yet in my book, they both deserved the jobs so I didn't really do much). But it was a nice, hearty hug all around.
By this point in the day I had walked about 5 miles, and was happy I did so; I felt alive and energetic. I made it to 90th st with some time to spare. Then when the kids started to arrive to the reunion meeting point we made our way to the Israel Day Concert in Central Park
It's tough to say how many people were there as it was being held over a tremendous area of land, and the concert was running for over four hours, so people kept coming and going (it was very similar to Bet-Shemesh-fest in Israel on Succos, just not as holy, and not as rocking). Let's just say there were a lot of people. And once more I ran into and hung out with several good friends. That combined with the excellent music made it another wonderful experience in an already solid day. Simply Tsfat was enjoyable, though they didn't play my favorite song of theirs "Barchi Nafshi"). I missed Blue Fringe unfortunately, but The Moshav Band reliably played their hits, and put on a great show (though the best I've seen them was still at Bet Shemesh-fest). Tzemach Band was the surprise of the day, I'm pleased to say. The band vastly improved since the last time I saw them, working out various technical, and arrangement kinks in their songs. And as always, the Bongo himself set the pace with a combination of fiery force, and deadset determination at the drums. They worked the crowd well, played harmoniously, and all in all rocked!
From there we led the reunion group to Dougies on 72nd. I however could not stay as I had to make my way "home" (i.e. Shea Stadium). Though before I left I stopped at the Kosher Krispy Kreme (KKK-lol) and had the new exciting "Cookies and Cream" donut. This culinary blessing was vanilla glazed with pieces of chopped Oreo's on top, and cookie cream in the middle. It was the best donut I've ever had. It was so good I think it briefly opened up the doorway to Narnia. The Malachim were singing Tehillim in praise of its savory sweetness, and fluffy texture. I was also able to get a nice cold glass of milk as well, which perfectly complemented, and washed down the rich yumminess (it's a word) of that delectable pastry.
So I headed Home, and got there with time to spare. I changed from my polo shirt, tzizit, wife beater and khaki shorts, into my Piazza jersey, Pepsi Pary Patrol T-shirt (I caught another one last week!), and desperately-in-need-of-a-wash-but-signed-by-Aaron-Heilman- so On the boardwalk towards the stadium I saw a magnificent sunset and realized I hadn't said mincha, and I still had time. I turned my back to Shea and davened in its shadow (while I love my Mets and there Shea, in no way do I truly worship them- facing Shea while davening just seemed wrong, so I stood northwest, rather than west). I got to the game right on time and had the most enjoyable night I've had at Shea all year.
It was a perfect 72 degrees for baseball. My friend Jay-hudah managed to get seats right behind the Mets dugout. I'm talking front row, right theres, as close as you can get. I tried calling my brother-in-law and nephews to tell them to look for me on TV if they were watching the game. Two minutes later I get a call from my oldest nephew. I assumed that he got my message. Turns out he was at the game with another one of my nephews, and my brother in law. They had binoculars and were scoping out the front row in search of celebrities but found me instead! I then sacrificed a few innings of front row Mets baseball to go watch the game with my family. It was just great high fiving my loved ones as the Mets destroyed the Giants 12-1. I spent the last 3 innings back in the front enjoying every minute of the Mets victory. I told you there would be magic at Shea this year.
I went home knowing that things were good. Hopefully they will stay that way.