Two short stories: We went to Jewell (20 miles or so) for our friend's birthday party. It started snowing--so we scurried into our car and drove home. I grew up in Iowa and my parents were newspaper circulation managers, so driving in snow is usually second nature--but I couldn't see a thing. Finally Mark rolled down the window and he told me when to turn. We made it home but it was a nasty trip.
The second story: Both my son and his daughter went over to the fireplace, looked up the chimney and said "Santa is just a story, isn't it?" My son was just 27 months old and his daughter about the same. Sometimes it's the kids who take the charm out of Christmas but at least Erik helped us play Santa to his younger sister.
You two are so good! When I read your chats with each other, I keep wishing I could actually hear you live. Would you be as good on a podcast? My hunch is you would be even better live, on a podcast or even on a stage in a small venue, probably with snickers, harrumphs and sighs. Keep these good ones coming!
As always, I loved reading your column. I got to witness June's explanation of Hanukkah to her friend Hazel. I didn't jump in until the end when she said the Israelites won the war. Couldn't help myself. Happy Hannukah!
I enjoy your perspectives on the holidays. Our friend Leslie used to tell me how depressed the Christmas lights made her feel, and how homesick she was for Long Island and her family. After 34 years of friendship, we understand each other a lot better, and give each other more grace.
Thank you, Fern and Joe. As an old classmate of Fern's, every time I read one of your postings, I am reminded of either my childhood or some aspect of my life that, somehow, I can directly relate to. In this case, my mind harks back to being a 7 year old Bronx child who knew nothing of Christmas or Hanukkah (or is it Chanukah?).
It wasn't till we moved to Plainview, NY in 1954 that I was exposed to anything religious. Around Christmas time, that year, I saw all these beautiful decorations. I asked my father when were we going to put the lights around our windows. He said, somewhat gruffly, "We're not! We're Jewish."...To that, I replied, "What's that?"
Needless to say, from that point on, I was forced to find out what that meant. I was enrolled in Hebrew school at the insistence of Dad's mother (the only grandparent still living at that time). And, being enrolled in the Plainview school system, found myself surrounded by a very even mix of Jews and Gentiles (as Fern well knows). My late sister, having married a Catholic man, observed everything. She even convinced my mother to have a small Christmas tree (about 1 foot tall) in our living room. Of course, it was topped with a Jewish star!
Many years later, when I moved into my own home (as a bachelor), the first thing I did around Christmas/Hanukkah(Chanukah?) was put up a 6 foot tall Christmas tree next to the Menorah. This really confused my new neighbors. They had no idea what I was. One of them actually asked me what I was, and I said, "human." That confused her even more. I saw the bewildered look, so I clarified by telling the poor old lady that I was actually allergic. She asked what I was allergic to and I said, "Questions about what I am."
Eventually, I got married to a nice Jewish girl who was raised in a fairly orthodox environment. I had to ditch the Christmas tree after that, but I do retain a Chef Boyardee shelf in the pantry!
Two short stories: We went to Jewell (20 miles or so) for our friend's birthday party. It started snowing--so we scurried into our car and drove home. I grew up in Iowa and my parents were newspaper circulation managers, so driving in snow is usually second nature--but I couldn't see a thing. Finally Mark rolled down the window and he told me when to turn. We made it home but it was a nasty trip.
The second story: Both my son and his daughter went over to the fireplace, looked up the chimney and said "Santa is just a story, isn't it?" My son was just 27 months old and his daughter about the same. Sometimes it's the kids who take the charm out of Christmas but at least Erik helped us play Santa to his younger sister.
Thank you, once again, for the stories, the smiles, and the out loud laughter! Happy Everything to the two of you 🥂!
You two are so good! When I read your chats with each other, I keep wishing I could actually hear you live. Would you be as good on a podcast? My hunch is you would be even better live, on a podcast or even on a stage in a small venue, probably with snickers, harrumphs and sighs. Keep these good ones coming!
I hear them when I read their column. You're right--they're great storytellers and have a knack to draw in the listener.
As always, I loved reading your column. I got to witness June's explanation of Hanukkah to her friend Hazel. I didn't jump in until the end when she said the Israelites won the war. Couldn't help myself. Happy Hannukah!
Love reading this! From what I gather, the message of Hanukkah, the Jewish Christmas, is: don't assimilate!
Once again your column exudes with charm. Yours is the perfect accompaniment to my morning coffee. Thank you for sharing yourselves with all of us!
I enjoy your perspectives on the holidays. Our friend Leslie used to tell me how depressed the Christmas lights made her feel, and how homesick she was for Long Island and her family. After 34 years of friendship, we understand each other a lot better, and give each other more grace.
Thanks again,
C.
Wonderful storytelling.
Thank you, Fern and Joe. As an old classmate of Fern's, every time I read one of your postings, I am reminded of either my childhood or some aspect of my life that, somehow, I can directly relate to. In this case, my mind harks back to being a 7 year old Bronx child who knew nothing of Christmas or Hanukkah (or is it Chanukah?).
It wasn't till we moved to Plainview, NY in 1954 that I was exposed to anything religious. Around Christmas time, that year, I saw all these beautiful decorations. I asked my father when were we going to put the lights around our windows. He said, somewhat gruffly, "We're not! We're Jewish."...To that, I replied, "What's that?"
Needless to say, from that point on, I was forced to find out what that meant. I was enrolled in Hebrew school at the insistence of Dad's mother (the only grandparent still living at that time). And, being enrolled in the Plainview school system, found myself surrounded by a very even mix of Jews and Gentiles (as Fern well knows). My late sister, having married a Catholic man, observed everything. She even convinced my mother to have a small Christmas tree (about 1 foot tall) in our living room. Of course, it was topped with a Jewish star!
Many years later, when I moved into my own home (as a bachelor), the first thing I did around Christmas/Hanukkah(Chanukah?) was put up a 6 foot tall Christmas tree next to the Menorah. This really confused my new neighbors. They had no idea what I was. One of them actually asked me what I was, and I said, "human." That confused her even more. I saw the bewildered look, so I clarified by telling the poor old lady that I was actually allergic. She asked what I was allergic to and I said, "Questions about what I am."
Eventually, I got married to a nice Jewish girl who was raised in a fairly orthodox environment. I had to ditch the Christmas tree after that, but I do retain a Chef Boyardee shelf in the pantry!