Memo to the Master of the Universe
Sep 7th, 2010
Here’s what I’m hoping You can answer for me: Do You believe - given the current reality of our world rather than any idealized version You’d had in Mind - in democracy, critical prosperity for all levels of society, scientific advances, basic human rights, and broad personal freedoms for men and women alike? I ask this sincerely because it seems that many of those who don’t believe in these things (and here I refer to some of my own co-religionists, as well) are winning, at least demographically. And they say it’s all Your will.
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Patient X, the Humans, presents to clinic disoriented, unable to agree on a future, and with significant retrograde amnesia.
...I was convinced that my enthusiasm for the subject matter, the brilliance of the ideas, and the undisputed high quality of the people I was dealing with somehow guaranteed a flawless product, even though I had totally lost focus. I think I’ve been there before. Oh, yeah. A decade ago. When I worked for an internet startup. (Still, irrationally, my favorite job ever.) The initial assignment, and the bottom line (in both fiscal and journalistic terms), had become less important than the buzz I was getting from the work. And make no mistake: Entrepreneurial creativity is suburban crack.
The thing about tragedy is that, almost by definition, it completely takes us by surprise. Life has very few rules we all feel apply both personally and globally, but one of them is, or should be, that people outlive their parents. And live long enough to perhaps become parents themselves. Tragedy takes these basic assumptions, assumptions we need to make in order to thrive, and in one awful moment tells us: Don’t bet on it.
For me, Summer is a strange mix of adrenaline and Zen. 
Why, you wonder, do we not just dissolve our salty selves into the Great Sea of Man? Imagine – no countries! No religion! Why all the – oh, please let me savor this shaved-ice phrase again – “vicious tribal cartography” that deeply identified Jews so forcefully engrave upon the enlightened, blind-to-race world? Why, you ask, the ugly, Shylockian “we, we, we, we, we”? Why not join the collective, the universal, the mythic, theTimelessOriginalSpiritofHumanity? Breaaaaaaathe. Isn’t that better? Well, honestly…the buzz is not bad. (Pufff.) But there’s kind of a nasty edge to it, some toxicity. And I’ll tell you why...
The crazy thing is, I never wanted to be a "Jewish blogger,” or a political one for that matter. I have never been a single issue kind of girl, and I fear a "niche" as much as other, smarter, more marketing- savvy people often seek it.
Here's the thing. I've been thinking about poor Helen Thomas, who I believe was probably just saying what everyone thinks and has therefore been made a scapegoat. Not that I really care, because we ought to share the scapegoat status once in a while. It's the least we can do to dispel the stereotype that we are stingy, us irritating Jews.
I have seen 4 am April snow in Vermont, a great white eraser of global woe, and my children soaking, freezing and thrilled by the time 6 am arrives, at which time they request craisins and a carrot for the snowman’s face. I’ve seen my teenager clean an icy windshield in his pajamas using tourist brochures, the machismo already firmly enough entrenched to make the prospect of gloves, socks, or a coat utterly ridiculous for this task. I’ve seen how maple syrup gets pure in a hot basin in a cold room, and how pure American art used to be in the days of Rockwell, and also how to make a million pints of relatively expensive premium ice cream in 3 or 4 days, while sounding like a bunch of hippies who live out of a van. I’ve tasted B&J’s 'Coffee Coffee Buzz Buzz Buzz', which was taken off the market (a “graveyard flavor”), but can still be gotten at the Waterbury plant (making it a “zombie flavor”), and which, if I am ever famous, I would like renamed after me.
The Social Well
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