He's Back

In the summer of 2006, I told you here and here about a con man who, while violating parole, ingratiated himself into our community and defrauded people, businesses and religious institutions of thousands of dollars. After police arrested him outside a local kosher pizzeria, Clifford Schwartz a/k/a Christopher Parker a/k/a Joseph Cohen pled guilty to six counts of what is commonly known as passing bad checks. Despite his parole status and criminal history, Clifford served only one year before his release. He is apparently back in our local community, now under the name of Eliyahu Cohen.

I am not sure what is more appalling, that Clifford got parole already or that he takes us for such fools as to not move his con game to another city or state. For that affront to our collective intelligence alone he should suffer incarceration.

Our Newest Ambassador

As many of you know, Madonna spent this past Rosh Hashanah in Israel with the people from the Kabbalah Center. The Catholic girl from here in Oakland County proclaimed herself as an "Ambassador for Judaism." When I mentioned the story to my rabbi the other morning, he made an excellent point. Notwithstanding the Kabbalah Center's slide from a legitimate home of Judaism (Disclosure: the Kabbalah Center played a large part in my father-in-law's becoming religious before it became the cult it is now), there are much greater concerns that we Jews have from within. For example, the rabbi asked me, which is worse, the Kabbalah Center or Humanistic Judaism,? The rabbi agreed with my immediate reaction, that Humanistic Judaism (which, for those who don't know, is atheistic Judaism) is far more threatening. After all, Humanistic Judaism aims to indoctrinate Jews into a quasi-religion.

Notwithstanding that Madonna is more a joke and/or nuisance than anything else, I must give props to Ben Shapiro, whose article entitled "Madonna's Fake Judaism" is worth reading. Here is one great part:

Hollywood's fascination with Kabbalah springs from a lust for spiritual reward without spiritual work. The glitterati love any religion that allows them to sleep at night without restricting whom they sleep with.

Read the whole thing here.

Gedaliah Owes Me Big Time

With the All Candy Expo starting in Chicago tomorrow morning, Mrs. Zwicker had to go to the Windy City today. Since her father will help man the booth, Mrs. Zwicker's mother came to watch the little Zwickerette during the day. Because Mrs. Zwicker was nervous about driving with no assistance if the little one were to go into meltdown mode, I, being the caring and sensitive husband that I am, offered to drive to Chicago and then take a Southwest flight home.

On any other day, I would have made a detour before going to Midway Airport before flying home. Alas, because of some guy named Gedaliah, Ken's was not to be. To quote Tom Petty, "God, it's so painful, something that's so close yet still so far out of reach. Oh yeah, alright, take it easy baby, make it last all night."

Along I-94 I saw a bumper sticker that made me wonder. It read: "I'm a historic preservationist and I vote." Are there politicians who, before casting an important vote or making some important policy pronouncement, asks his or her advisors, "Wait, what do the historic preservationists think about this?"

Before boarding my flight back to Detroit, I visited the restroom. Don't worry, I made sure to maintain a narrow stance and keep my toes firmly on the floor. Being Southwest, I also made sure that I was not showing too much leg or cleavage before boarding my flight.

Merry New Year

It's been quite a while since I last posted and even longer since I posted regularly. As you probably guessed, other priorities have gotten in the way. With a nanny who doesn't have to leave by 4:00, thereby necessitating my working on a very tight schedule, and with the Zwickerettes away next week, I should be back to regular posting real soon. Whether anyone is still checking this blog to know the difference is another story.

In any case, this has been, thank God, a great year. First and foremost, God blessed me and Mrs. Zwicker with the greatest gift we could imagine. Many of our friends have received the same blessing or will soon. My work has gotten even more interesting, challenging and enjoyable.

In short, I could not ask God for anything more. I try to my best to keep that thought in mind when I say the Modim ("thanks") blessing I say in the prayers three times a day. May this year be one of blessings, good health and happiness for us all, as well as the recoginition and appreciation of the God who grants it all to us.

An Inconvenient Image

Air, Stale Buns and No Waitress just reached Climax together. Come back for more updates as soon as you have erased that awful visual snapshot from your mind.

Full Circle

Five years ago, two guys, whom I'll call Air and No Waitress, wanted to dine at the famous Ken's Diner in Chicago. Knowing that their wives would not appreciate their taking a day off work but not spending it with the family, the guys devised a clever scheme. They solicted some sponsors who would receive Ken's burgers and Roumanian meat, with the proceeds going to charity, under the guise of being a drive-a-thon. Air and No Waitress correctly surmised that their wives could not object to spending the day raising money for those in need, even if it was a thinly veiled subterfuge. So, the two packed themselves into a car and headed to Chicago.

To the surprise of many, including yours truly, Air and No Waitress raised a decent amount of money for charity. Realizing they were really onto something, they raised the bar each of the following three years by renting an RV and, amid great fanfare, taking a whole crew, including a filmmaker whose documentary of the day dissapointingly failed to get a deal at Cannes or Sundance. Every year, the drive-a-thon became more successful than in the past.

Today, the drive-a-thon is back on the road. Due to Air's aliyah last year, the great event is taking place in August, while he is visiting town, and without quite the publicity as in the past. Nevertheless, Burger One, with Air, No Waitress and Stale Buns aboard, embarked at approximately 6:55 this morning. Ground Control received word just minutes ago that Burger One, which this year is No Waitress' Grand Cherokee rather than an RV, just passed Jackson. Updates, including pictures, will hopefully appear here throughout the day. Meanwhile, let us all wish those aboard Burger One good luck and Godspeed.

It Was Gatlinburg In Late July

Some notes from our recent trip to Louisville and Gatlinburg:

-The giant Jesus at exit 29 on I-75 in Ohio was inspiring as usual. It even had me singing this song.

-That sign for Big Bone Lick State Park will always make me laugh.

-The Simpsons and new Harry Potter movie are both definitely worth seeing.

-We went on Sunday to the aquarium in Newport, Kentucky, right across the river from Cincinnati. The aquarium is great on its own but is also part of an amazing complex overlooking the water and the Cincy skyline. It has a top of the line movie theater and a number of good stores, all surrounding a large courtyard with limestone and cobblestone pavement. They have street performers and apparently a number of concerts throughout the summer. It really brings life to the waterfront, an area where many people like to spend time. In other words, it's yet one more thing that Detroit should have done years ago.

-We've discovered that Emma is a Johnny Cash and Diana Ross (separately, as I don't think they ever sang together) fan. They are the only musical performers thus far that can calm her when she's in meltdown mode.

-We had our first night away from Emma since she came home from the hospital when we left her with the in-laws while we spent the night in Gatlinburg. I jolted from sleep at 5:45 in the morning when I had not heard Emma, only to realize where we were.

-The lady playing miniature golf in front of us the other night in Pigeon Forge had the gall to be talking on her cell phone during her game. Talking on a cell phone during a funeral or in a library is one thing, but during a miniature golf game is another. How dare she?

-On a more serious note, I'm about a quarter of the way through Ronald Reagan's recently released diaries. Whether you loved him or hated him, I highly recommend the book. Rather than a whitewashed, after-the-fact autobiography or biography by someone with a bias for or against the subject, a contemporaneous, private diary by one of last century's most consequential men gives great insight into the thoughts of a historic person. It is also interesting to see how much some things have changed, like the collegiality in the Beltway. While they often publicly butted heads, Reagan often wrote fondly of Democratic Speaker of the House Tip O'Neill. They considered each other as friends worthy of admiration and respect, even when they disagreed on some very important issues. This is far different from the vitriol and hatred that has come from both sides of the aisle the past fifteen years or so.

Less Artsy More Fartsy

Some notes from last night's trip to Ann Arbor for the art fairs:

-Even though she sleeps most of the time she's in her stroller, Emma is really a babe magnet. Next year I'll have to leave Mrs. Zwicker at home.

-In a state with an economy as bad as Michigan and competition for the almighty dollar consequently being so tough, nudist colonies should really get better looking spokespeople.

-By placing the booths for the Michigan Atheists and the National Organization for Circumcision Information Resources Center (they're against it) next to each other, the fair organizer did a big favor to the mohel who likes a theological debate but is pressed for time.

-When you run into a casual acquaintance in Ann Arbor of all places and tell him that you and the wife bought his and hers dog collars, it's best to specify that they are for your canines.

-At last year's fair, Mrs. Zwicker and I parked next to a car with a bumper sticker that read: "I'm Wiccan And I Vote." Since then I have wondered if there are any politicians who, before making any decision, says to his or her staff, "Hold on, what's the Wiccan voting bloc's position on this?"

Perspective

I just sent a contract to a prospective client. After weighing and sealing it, I found the correspondence weighed .8 ounce. I then realized that I forgot to include a return envelope in which the recipient could send a signed contract. After inserting the return envelope and sealing the outer envelope, I weighed it again to make sure that I would affix sufficient postage. I found that the return envelope increased the overall weight by one-fifth of an ounce.

This made me recognize once again what a miracle Emma's being with us is. Each day of Emma's first 28 days in this world, Mrs. Zwicker and I would eagerly anticipate the latest weight report. While a gain of half an ounce was a good sign and a full ounce could really make our day, a gain as little as one-fifth of an ounce was a positive.

In case you are wondering, according to the in-laws' kitchen scale, Emma weighed approximately seven pounds on July 4th. I am still considering O's Fan's suggestion of adding an Emma Weight Counter to the Zlog sidebar and see how old she is before she or Mrs. Zwicker make me remove it. For now, here's a picture of Emma with not-so-little Sammy a few weeks ago.

7/11

There are those voters who have that one issue that trumps all when deciding who gets their votes for president of this great country. For some, it's abortion. For others, it's gun rights. Some put the environment first while others' primary concern is their own financial well being. With the next presidential election almost sixteen months away, I have decided that, for the very first time, I too will be a single issue voter. What is my most paramount, burning issue that I hold dearest above all, you may ask. You may.

As of today, July 11, 2007, Slurpee Day, whichever candidate first pronounces his or her sincere appreciation for the importance of the most wonderful, effervescent beverage in the world gets my vote. I want, no I demand, a president who will give the Slurpee the honor it so richly deserves. Today, 7/11, should be a national holiday. Access to a Slurpee at any time should be a constitutional right, not just a privilege. It is also a great example of the great melting pot that is this country. For example, if you want to meet an Indian in Delaware, you merely have to go to the nearest 7-11. Just ask Joe Biden.

It's All In The Pursuit

Mrs. Zwicker and I, along with some friends, watched "The Pursuit of Happyness" the other night. It's based on the true story of Chris Gardner, a down-on-his-luck single father who struggles to make a living to support himself and his son. Gardner, whom Will Smith played quite well, doesn't give up no matter how bad things get, even when he and his son lose their apartment and sleep in a public bathroom those nights Gardner and his son are not fast enough to get to the homeless shelter. Through it all, Gardner maintains not only a positive attitude for himself but for his son as well. The ending is predictable-Gardner gets a job as a stock broker and goes on to make a very nice living for himself.

The movie is meant to be uplifting, showing an otherwise average guy who overcomes the odds to earn a good job so that he can take care of his son. While I usually enjoy those types of movies, assuming they are well done, this one left us all flat. The movie was just so depressing and exhausting until the last scene, which lasted all of two minutes. We would have like a little more showing of the reward for all of Gardner's efforts and perseverance.

As I thought about the movie over the next few days though, I came to appreciate a message that Gardner mentions at one point but remains otherwise unspoken. Gardner refuses to complain about his lot in life and instead maintains a positive attitude. Not only that, but he also acknowledges that society doesn't owe him anything. He correctly says that the Constitution does not guarantee life, liberty and happiness. It instead guarantees life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness (the spelling in the title is from the grafitti outside the son's daycare center). As Smith showed, it's up to each person to make the most of his pursuit. With July 4th coming, Chris Gardner reminds us all of what makes America so great.

C'est La Vie Say The Old Folks

Mrs. Zwicker and I have found ourselves in that wedding invitation no-man's land. You know what I'm talking about. Most of our friends are married, so we rarely attend weddings or Sheva Brachot for friends. When we get an invitation, it is often because we are on the parents' list rather than that or the bride or groom.

The other night, we went to such a Sheva Brachot. I would guess that the bride and groom are only a few years younger than us. The groom's parents, with whom we are friendly from shul, had invited us. We got there a little late to find most of the tables full and very few of our contemporaries there. We saw two empty seats next to our friends, Gil and Rebecca. We made a beeline to them since the few other tables at which our friends were sitting were full and the only other table was in the far corner with four people, three women and a man, all looking to be in their sixties, and not seeming to know anyone else. Alas, the seats next to Gil and Rebecca were already taken, so we headed to the corner thinking that we wouldn't be there very long.

Being friendly, we got to talking to our table-mates. The three women were the groom's mother's co-workers. The man was one of the women's husband. Frankly, he looked like the stereotypical high school shop teacher. After a few minutes of small talk, we learned that he was a career Navy Seal, now retired. During part of his employment, he was on President Richard Nixon's security detail.

We could have sat there all night talking with him, listening to his (non-classified) stories, like his first trip to Israel. He was serving in Vietnam in June of 1967 when he got an assignment to protect a Saudi oil sheik in East Jerusalem just as the Six Day War was about to start. His best line of the evening was regarding being caught in an Arab assault and having to defend himself. "We weren't invited to the party, but once we were there, we were going to dance." Of course, the line loses something when not hearing him say it in his Louisiana drawl. The man is now indeed a high school teacher, of ROTC. His stories about that were not nearly as dramatic but were equally uplifting and intriguing. It goes to show you never can tell.

Ernestine Bradley

On Monday night, I had the honor of meeting and hearing a speech by Ernestine Bradley. Mrs. Bradley is a non-Jew who was a child in Germany during the Holocaust. As she has done around the world, Mrs. Bradley spoke of her experience in confronting the atrocities that occurred in her homeland. Her speech was very compelling. I hope to read her autobiography soon.

Before the speech, a few of us on the committee that brought Mrs. Bradley to town had dinner with her. Among the many topics were her family. One person asked Mrs. Bradley how she met her husband, NBA Hall of Famer and former United States Senator Bill Bradley. Mrs. Bradley explained that she was working on an educational documentary in which various celebrities were speaking about some topic. One of the interviewees was Bill Bradley. Not being a sports fan at all, the future Mrs. Bradley didn't know much about him. They started talking and, as they say, the rest is history. Someone else asked Mrs. Bradley how her future husband performed in the video. She said that he did well, to which I added that I would have expected as much since he was the star of one my favorite commercials of all time. She had no idea what I was talking about, even after I described the commercial to her. I wonder if she went home and asked him about it or found it herself. Of course, if she is Googling herself and comes across this blog, she can find it right here:

My New Favorite Website

I know that NoahDaddy is going to love this.

40 Years Later

Courtesy of Macabee.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

The front page story this morning across the country is of the foiled plot of destruction at New York's JFK airport. Actually, not every paper has it on the front page. The New York Times, the Paper of Record, which in case you couldn't determine from its name, is a New York newpaper, relegated the news to page 37. Anyway, as I finished the article in this morning's Detroit Free Press, I was left wondering one thing that the Free Press didn't address-to which religion, if any, do these aspiring terrorists belong? Hmm, I wonder.

Mrs. Zwicker and I finally watched the season finale of 24 last night. It was a microcosm of the season as a whole. It started strong but then devolved to a mixture of some good scenes and some unnecessary personal stories that were more appropriate for a soap opera. The last twenty minutes were rather fluffy with all the tying up of loose ends although the last few minutes were great. While the show has previously addressed Jack's tortured soul, the last image of the season being a close-up of his face as he contemplated what his life had become was powerful. The silent clock was very appropos.

Mama I'm Coming Home

Great news! Emma's weight jumped 2.3 ounces to a whopping total of 3 pounds, 15.4 ounces. The doctor said that she can come home today. It looks like our counting down every night of the Omer worked in the end. Thank you to God for letting us bring home our beautiful baby, safe and sound. Thank you to all our friends and family who have been so supportive and helpful. Last but certainly not least, thank you to Mrs. Zwicker, for spending countless hours at the hospital, giving Emma just a small dose of the love and attention awaiting her at home. I love you both.

Emma Update

Sorry, especially to Dr. O's Fan, for the lack of postings the last week or so. With my whirlwind tour of Midwest hotspots like Lansing and Toledo, not to mention twice-daily visits to the hospital, I have not had much time to post. Yesterday, Mrs. Zwicker and I again walked the four-plus miles to the hospital to spend Shabbat afternoon with Emma. Don't worry, the nap streak is still alive. Just as important, Emma's weight as of this morning is 3 lbs., 11.2 oz., just 4.8 ounces short of coming home. At the rate at which she has been gaining weight, she should be home by the end of this week. As Cousin AJ pointed out the other day, we might want to slow Emma's weight gain. If she keeps going at this pace, she'll be 182 pounds by the time she's five years old.

Notes From The NICU

You probably cannot tell it from the pictures but Emma is growing less littler every day, thank God. As of last night she was at 3 lbs., 6.4 oz. She's been guzzling her milk like her daddy drank in law school, albeit a beverage of a different sort. The doctors hope to have her out of the isolette and taking all her feedings via bottle rather than a nose tube within a day or so.

The Cure

For the past two weeks, while visiting Emma in the hospital two or three times a day, it has bothered me that there are so many sick people in the world. I just wished that I could do something to help even one sick person. Early this morning, while driving to see Emma, I realized the answer when I heard Blue Oyster Cult's "Don't Fear The Reaper." The cure had been right before my eyes all this time. More cowbell! Now i just have to find one that I can take to the hospital and play its soothing melodies as I walk through the halls. Soon enough, Sinai Grace Hospital will have no more patients. I can then go from hospital to hospital, not just in southeast Michigan but around the world, healing all who can hear the glorious cowbell.