Achdus and Israel at War

I don't know about Conservative, Reform, or other kinds of Jews, but those of us of the Orthodox persuasion talk a lot about achdus.  Achdus means unity.  We don't do nearly enough about achdus.  We don't try nearly hard enough to be inclusive, to open dialogues with Jews who don't do things exactly like we do.

When you think about it, who does do things exactly like we do, any one of us? Yet we can't let our own children do things differently (as if we have this choice), can't give them a blessing when they choose to disregard a traditions. Disregard is a soft word.  Usually we say, he's strayed, eschews the religion, is off the derech. Encouraging differentiation isn't a strong suit for those of us who call ourselves Orthodox, or observant.  We're nuts about conformity, emphasis upon nuts.

People have free choice, and choosing to be yashar should have meaning. Not everyone can fake it.

Facing a war in Gaza, one that is perhaps in full swing even as I write this, a war that seems to never have had a beginning, may have no end, our people are united.  It is the one time that Jews really do unite.  In Chicago, Atlanta, and other cities (I only follow where I fly) everyone who rallied downtown yesterday couldn't have cared less about what type of Jew held the sign.

We were united, we are united.  It shouldn't take a war to make us feel this way.

Flying Strong

Flying Less

I made this huge deal that I had to fly thousands of miles to see my kids and grandkids to do what feels so right, grandparent.  Meaning, I complained on occasion. 

To feel better, I started this blog.  FD called me Coast to Coast Bubbie.  But The Flying Bubbie won out as a handle, ultimately.  

Crazy thing happened, the west coast bunch moved back to Chicago!  Now I only have to travel to one city to see their cousins. I travel a lot less, having eliminated California.  Some see this as a great loss, not visiting California three to four times a year.  But flying is expensive, and we could say enough already, to CA.

 Nobody is retiring anymore, and those of us who still work, seem to be working more than ever,  certainly the case with me.  We’ve already discussed that when you're busy time flies, no chiddush (Yiddish, rhymes with hid-dish, hard "ch").  It's out of control, how much it flies.  Time wins frequent flyer miles contests.  

Blogging, deliberately capturing the finer moments of not working is feeling like a good idea, even if the technical intent of some of my trips down south are to present corporate or educational workshops.  

Unlike my other writing, however, there's no tremendous therapeutic import here, just observations, opinions.  Feel free to comment on them.  

A granddaughter graduated kindergarten, so we flew south.  We almost didn't make it, airfares are so high, but white knuckled the wait for them to drop.  Eight days before the big day, Delta dropped below the $200.00 mark (from Ohare yet).  So we popped.  

I mean, it's a graduation.



There's a spin on what they learn in kindergarten, arguably among the most important things they will ever learn in school..

Little munchkins in blue caps and gowns.  Pretty adorable. Instead of long speeches, you get songs!
And before it's over, time for cookies, and off to enjoy the day.  As opposed to college graduations, these are over by 11:00 am.

It's hot in the south.

So after the ceremony, cake, and peanut butter and fluff straight from the jar for lunch (and yogurt, fine), we went to Centennial Olympic Park to run crazy in the fountains.  It wasn't an original idea.