The Sixth Child

Passover has always been a family oriented holiday. It is not unlike the American celebration of Thanksgiving when family members will travel cross country just to make it to the dinner table to break bread with their loved ones. Of course, at Passover we don't break bread. We break matzah (unleavened bread) instead. Before we partake of any foodstuff, we read from a special Passover prayerbook called a Haggadah. Haggadot (plural) are as varied as the permutations of Jewish observance. Some are plain Jane texts of Hebrew and English. Some have beautiful illustrations with detailed commentary, while others are far more inventive with games for the kids and song parodies. It is all in the spirit of the holiday which celebrates the redemption of the Hebrew slaves from an oppressed to a self-determining people who owe their existence to the direct intervention of God. Early in the Haggadah reading we are told of the Four Sons or Four Children who could attend a Passover meal called a seder. The Haggadah gives instruction on how to tell the story of the Exodus from Egypt to the Wise, the Wicked (or Contrary), the Simple, and the One Who Knows Not to Ask. Before he died, the Labavitcher Rebbe (Menachem Mendel Schneerson) instituted the concept of the Fifth Child, whom he described as the One Who Could Not Attend. Furthermore, some have gone to suggest that the Fifth Son might be representative of the children who perished during the Holocaust. As a member of a family, one can measure the changes in family structure and size by attending seders through the years. My maternal grandmother put on huge Passover productions. She not only had two sets of dishes for meat and milk for Passover alone, but went so far as to have a special stove and a special dishwasher that were only used at Passover time. I recall my Great Aunt Tante Pearlman, who attended my materal grandmother's huge affairs with her son. Her son David was a relatively young man who passed away shortly before his mother expired. Cousins would see each other for an evening and then not see each other for another year. The link was always through the Passover seder. After my grandmother passed away, my mother and my uncle and his wife continued the practice of hosting seders alternating with each other as to who would play host. Although these were much smaller affairs, they were similarly rewarding in connecting to family members. I watched my cousins grow up, the youngest of whom just became a mother herself for the first time a few months ago. I saw how the hardships of divorce and death affected family members and I offered my help whenever it was appropriate. Lately, I have started thinking about all of those family members I no longer see, those proper and genteel Southern ladies who would grace my grandmother's seder or those kindly gentlemen who sat at the table observing the ordinances for the holiday. They are at the seder, but only in memory. I would suggest that we might want to consider a new Passover tradition of recalling the Sixth Child: the one who grew up, experienced the Passover holiday through the years, but is no longer physically or mentally capable of being there or has gone on to meet his or her Maker. Passover is always open to new traditions. Recent changes to the traditional observance include the concept of a Miriam's Cup filled with water that is placed on the table as well as an orange that is included, both to emphasize and glorify the feminist contribution to our faith. When I think about all those faces I no longer see at a family seder, I wax sadly about it. Would it not be an appropriate way to acknowledge those whose company we can no longer enjoy than to say a word or two about them during the night's reading? I would suggest that we should prepare a few words to consider the Sixth Child (or Sixth Son). I know I miss seeing so many of my loved ones at the Passover seder. And it is true that eventually I, too, will be a Sixth Child one day.

Passover Preparation

Keeping kosher is tough enough during the year. However, preparing for the Passover holiday is the biggest challenge. The usual laws separating meat and dairy dishes still apply. But add to that the additional rejoinder that one cannot have anything that contains bread or grains or is not made especially for the eight days of Passover and you can get an idea how much more difficult it is to maintain the practice. When I lived in Cleveland, there were at least two different kosher butchers and bakers whose businesses were within walking distance. There also was a large supermarket that carried large numbers of kosher foods next door. Here in the kosher hinterland of Bayou country, there is really only one source: Joel Brown's Kosher Cajun New York Deli and Grocery. About a month before the holiday, Joel's staff begins turning over his selections to include only "kosher for Passover" foods. All of the meats, frozen dinners, and Passover menu items like matzah (unleaved bread) all carry labels that certify they are acceptable. Even the soft drinks like Coca Cola carry a small designation that shows they are prepared with real sugar and not with corn syrup solids. If you are a Coke drinker, Passover time is when you stock up your pantry to enjoy the real Coke, the formula that the company stopped making once the New Coke bombed. When the Coca Cola bottlers responded to consumer pressure to bring back the Original Formula, they neglected to inform the public they were converting the formula from the more expensive sugar to high fructose corn syrup. Real Coke enthusiasts could tell the difference and many still bemoan the conversion, but their entreaties and finger pointing were ignored by company top executives who saw a way to recoup benefits from an unprecedented financial disaster and public relations bomb. The swing into full Passover mode begins in earnest today just before midday because all traces of unacceptable food items (i.e. breads, liquors distilled from grains, etc.) must be sold, disposed of, sold or burned. It's not easy to do, but millions of people do. So today I will begin enjoying the daunting taste of matzah and matzah ball soup as well as gefilte fish. My cabinets containing chometz have been secured and what items I could not dispose of were "sold" to a third party via my rabbi, who could legally claim them if they so desired. The fact that the third party is in Nashville, Tennessee makes that very unlikely. The major part of the holiday is the seder meal, which begins tonight after sundown and will continue into the very wee morning hours in observant homes. For the youngest children it is a special time: a night when they can stay up well past their bedtimes. It is also a time of singing and games and a time I recall vividly as a youth seeing my whole family gather together to recall the redemption from slavery to freedom. To all my Jewish friends I wish you the best of holidays.

Blogging for ours

While there a number of suitable topics to cover this date including the horrible anniversary of the Virginia Tech massacre, I was most drawn to a column today written by local Times-Picayune writer Chris Rose. Rose and I have met on a few occasions, but he has more or less operated outside of my circle of friends since he began writing his column in 2000. His 60 second interviews have always been pretty enjoyable fare and I've seen him as a legitimate voice of the people. Some years previous to Hurricane Katrina, he had appeared on several local stages including Le Chat Noir's "Galatoire's Monologues" "The A**hole Monologues,"and "I Love My Kid, But..." But Hurricane Katrina greatly affected Rose, like many of us. His "One Dead in Attic," a series of remembrances from the early days of recovery in New Orleans, was a powerful set of columns written around the storm and collectively published about a year after the storm. He detailed how he, his wife and their children were sent off to live afar in the days preceding and following the storm and the floods that resulted from the levee breaks. When he returned to work, his coverage of life on the streets in a neighborhood without power proved to be a window on the soul of what was then a soulless city. Rose's power of description hit home pretty hard, especially for lifelong residents of New Orleans like me who were forced to live in exile. It was only a year or so ago that Rose revealed to his readers that he had despaired so much that he had to seek medical treatment. He acknowledged that the stress of the slow recovery and its impact on him and his wife had placed great strain on their marriage. Today I read about Rose's description of Ashley Morris, a man who took him to task regularly in his daily blog and who, unbeknownst to Rose was his neighbor. Morris' blog titled the "Library Chronicles" criticized anything that seemed to be detrimental to the city in his estimation. Rose describes how he read Morris regularly to see what criticism he might be leveling at him. But he didn't realize that the criticism was coming from across his street. Morris wrote Rose to complain about Entergy gasline repairs that were destroying the old street name tiles built into the sidewalk corners. When Morris complained about "our corner," Rose wrote him back asking him what he meant by that phrase. It was then that Rose learned that the neighbor he used to think was a fine, upstanding guy was in fact this troublemaker from the blogospher. That was just a few weeks ago at the end of March. Despite a bit of trepidation on his part, Rose agreed to meet Morris when he returned to town. As fate woud have it, Morris never came back. He died on the road just a few days later in a hotel room, leaving behind a widow and three young children. A jazz funeral followed last week, but Rose's grudging admiration for a tireless champion of New Orleans culture is obvious. So too is Rose's talent for dealing with one of his online detractors whom he eventually took to his very large heart. For those who wish to read the entire column, go to:
http://blog.nola.com/chrisrose/2008/04/paying_respect_to_ashley_morri.html

Taxing Times

In case you hadn't noticed, today marks the day that many Americans dread most. Yes, it's the day when it's time to pay the piper, when it's time to put up and shut up, when the pain of IRSitis (that's pronounced ur-si-tihs) hits most Americans and no amount of aspirin, acetaminophen, or ibuprofen will help. Ever since the U.S. Tax Code, which identifies the Internal Revenue Service as the official tax collecting arm of the govenment, went into effect has the plight of the American taxpayer ever been made more stressful and the careers of H. and R. Block more profitable. For those that use Turbo Tax or any of the other computer programs that attempt to help figure out what is owed and what can be deducted safely, the old adage "garbage in and garbage out" has probably never been truer. Regardless if you've figured it out correctly or not, it's time to submit your check because if you don't pay what is owed today, you may be liable for penalties and interest which can turn a small oversight into a major headache. My advice is get a good accountant and maintain a healthy friendship. Accountants can be lifesavers on the sea of taxation. And in the meantime just take a deep breath. The next quarter will be due in just another 90 days.

Wild Weekend

This last weekend was a whirl for me and I apologize for not having time to write a blog yesterday. Despite the draw of the French Quarter Festival and the V-Day celebrations in the Central Business District, my place was out in God's country with the Chilankatoba Lodge of the Order of the Arrow, an honor society of Boy Scouts and selected adult leaders. While the Boy Scouts of America will be 100 years old in 2010, the Order of the Arrow will mark its centennial five years later in 2015. For its entire history the group has dedicated itself to cheerful service work both in and out of the BSA. This coming weekend the Southern Region Section 1 of the Order of the Arrow will be gathering at the Salmen Scout Reservation maintained by the Southeast Louisiana Council . It was the job of the host lodge to make sure the camp was well-prepared for the other lodges who are expected to attend with nearly 500 Arrowmen, as members are known. Substantial repairs to the existing facilities were made by dedicated Scouts and Scouters and I can report with pride that the camp is in tip-top shape. This next weekend will mark the first time in 30 years that the Southeast Louisiana Council has played host to the Conclave. It should be a wonderful time.
Kudos to Cabaret Le Chat Noir for the past two weekends of shows as they hosted the All Kinds of Theatre production of Amanda McBroom's show with pianist Joel Silberman. It was a spectacular show consisting of most of her own penned material. McBroom's performance culminated with her special rendition of "The Rose" that was used in the film of the same title featuring Bette Midler. McBroom's husband, George, a former star in the San Francisco production of "Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris," came on stage for last night's final encore to sing a duet of "Some Enchanted Evening" with his wife. McBroom, considered one of the very finest cabaret singers in the world, was overwhelmed with New Orleans and all of its charms. She stated she had to leave because her clothes no longer fit. A fine tribute to New Orleans' fattening cuisine.

French Quarter Festival, V-Day kick off; Dr. Kroger kicks the bucket

Wow! It's been 25 years that the New Orleans French Quarter Festival has been in full swing, starting initially as a very small attempt to beef up attendance from locals into the French Quarter, which had acquired the unseemly reputation of a dirty, dingy and dangerous area of the city. When it first started, a few local artists played some traditional jazz selections and several French Quarter restaurants sold a few of their menu items to the anxious crowds. Over the years the caliber of artists has been raised and the number of stages for performances has increased substantially to 17. The number of participating restaurants and the variety of menu offerings has, likewise, leapfrogged. It is possible to even bring kids to the very family-friendly events that occur from today through Sunday. Special events include a "second line" parade this morning, a battle of the bands, and an oyster eating contest. Local luminary and pianist Ronnie Kole's brass statue was unveiled in ceremonies at the Legends Park on Bourbon Street. Add to this the celebration of V-Day down at the Superdome with stars like Oprah Winfrey, Jane Fonda and "Vagina Monologues" author Eve Ensler and there's lots of stuff happening way down yonder in New Orleans. For those who want to get out of town, this is also the weekend for the Pontchatoula Strawberry Festival. Surprisingly, Pontchatoula's most famous daughter, Irma Thomas, is not appearing at the French Quarter Festival. So who knows? Maybe that's a good spot to hang out this weekend, away from all of the hubbub and traffic of the downtown and Vieux Carre areas.
Sad news for "Monk" fans: Those who know me well know that I am a particular fan of TV's "Monk." I note with sadness the passing of Stanley A. Kamel, the gifted actor who portrayed the obsessive compulsive detective's overtaxed psychiatrist, Dr. Charles Kroger. Kamel, 65, was found dead of an apparent heart at his Beverly Hills home. He was a veteran of TV for decades having played a number of roles on TV soaps like "Days of Our Lives" and prime time fare like "Beverly Hills 90210." As Dr. Kroger, Kamel had a marvelous part, which he played to perfection opposite Tony Shaloub's quriky Adrian Monk. He will be missed by "Monk" fans across the globe.

A gathering of Eagles and Blue Dogs

Last night I had the pleasure to attend a gathering of several hundred area Boy Scouts and adult leader called Scouters at the New Orleans Museum of Art. The reason was a special exhibit of Norman Rockwell and Joseph Csatari paintings that were on display as a special traveling show with the new Chief Scout Executive Robert Mazzuca visiting New Orleans for the first time in the position he accepted last May. Norman Rockwell was one of my favorite painters and many of the wholesome Americana images he captured on canvas dealt with Scouting. Csatari was his pupil and has carried the torch proudly since Rockwell's death. Many of the paintings, like Rockwell's "The Scoutmaster" have become icons in and of themselves. It was unbelievably moving to see these paintings and drawings up close and all together. Also on display was an incredible retrospective on the hallowed career of George Rodrigue, the Cajun artist whose "Blue Dog" paintings have become world famous. Many will note that the very popular Blue Dog was at first based on the Cajun legend of the loup garou, a Cajun werewolf legend. Rodrigue based the image on his former pet who had died four years earlier. At first the eyes burned red with anger and menace. Later, though, as the animal appeared more frequently in Rodrigue's paintings along with other famous personages like Ronald Reagan, Mikhail Gorbachev, Pete Fountain, Al Hirt, Huey Long, Earl Long, and others, the eyes became a softer, friendlier yellow. The exhibitions were wonderful, but the highlight of the evening was the speech by Mazzuca, which noted the incredible progress the Southeast Louisiana Council has made since the devastation from Hurricane Katrina. At one point, the former 16,000 youth members of BSA units in the council had ebbed to 3,600. At the end of 2007 the council had regained to a level of 11,000, but approximately one-third (similar to the loss of population across the city) has been lost. I was proud to accompany my Eagle Scout son David, who like all Eagle Scouts in attendance pledged to continue to help Scouting in future years. We were fortunate to sit with our troop's Scoutmaster, Gene von Rosenberg, who has been Scoutmaster of Troop 48 (charter-partnered with St. Andrew's Episcopal Church) for the last 25 years. Tonight, a similar event at the New Orleans Museum of Art will be held with George Rodrigue also in attendance.