When a fast goes fast...

There's nothing like praying to keep one's mind off hunger. It turns out the Yom Kippur fast was a lot easier on my system than the Fast of Gedaliah, held a week ago. While I admit I am not typically as observant as to include both fast days in the week leading up to the Day of Atonement, circumstances made it easier for me to consider that option this year. Last Sunday morning I awoke at 5:34, which was three minutes too late to eat, according to rabbinical authorities. The previous day I had had a very large meal late in the day due to it being Shabbat Shuva and a special program we had at the synagogue. The program involved the Zeitouns, a married Muslim couple, who appeared at Gates of Prayer's Bart Room, the meeting place and temporary sanctuary for Congregation Beth Israel. Abdulrahman Zeitoun, a Syrian-American house painter endured unbelievable horrors and was unlawfully imprisoned for over a month, in the days following Hurricane Katrina. The irony of the tragedy is that he personally rescued several people trapped in their homes by canoe when the levees broke and the flood waters rose in Broadmoor and other sections of New Orleans. News reports a few days before his arrest in his own home labeled him a hero and described his efforts at saving the lives of many people trapped in their homes. Kathy, his wife, and their children had been evacuated to Arizona during this time and simply stopped hearing from him after his arrest and eventual incarceration at Hope Correctional Facility in St. Gabriel, Louisiana. The entire story was detailed in a best seller by Dave Eggers titled "Zeitoun." (For more info, click here.) Shabbat Shuva, the Sabbath between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is considered one of the most important on the Jewish calendar. Because of the continuing controversy over the building of what has been variously labeled as the Islamic Cultural Center, the Cordoba Project and Park 51 two blocks from Ground Zero in New York, Rabbi Uri Topolosky of Congregation Beth Israel and Rabbi Robert Loewy of Gates of Prayer Synagogue (Reform) invited the Zeitouns and their joint congregations to meet and discuss the greater questions of religious freedom and racial profiling, which had contributed to Zeitouin's arrest and imprisonment. It was the first time the Zeitouns had been in a synagogue and a very unusual program to say the least. So, because of this special program, I didn't begin to eat any meal on that Saturday until late and that meant not eating dinner prior to seeing a play that evening. I did decide to have a steak about 11:00 p.m. that night, figuring I would rise early and enjoy breakfast before the fast or have that late night meal and its high protein content keep me sustained for the following day. As it turned out, my late rising made the latter choice for me. On reflection I think I was more affected by dehydration than by a lack of food. That's why I think the praying, staying indoors for the most part and, perhaps, the sense of community at the services yesterday pulled me through the day with little or no ill effect. So, in five days it's yet another Jewish holiday, Succot, the Festival of Booths that commemorates the wandering for 40 years in the dessert. Thankfully, that holiday has a lot of eating inside the sukkahs, or temporary huts, that are erected on the sides of Jewish homes and synagogues. No more fasts for a while, but I guess I had better get my feet in shape because there will be lots of dancing in the days to come.

Happy New Year 5771

To non-Jews, the Jewish New Year called Rosh Hashanah is a rather odd holiday in many ways. But don't worry, it can also be confusing to many of us Jews. That's because the Jewish calendar is based on a lunar cycle wherein every month begins with the announcement of a new moon over Jerusalem. This was fixed many years ago by rabbinical authorities. Thus, every "day" begins at sundown. But it is not strictly a lunar calendar as is the case with the Islamic calendar. There is a specific passage in the Bible that prohibits the Passover celebration from being held in any other season other than Spring. Because of this, there are dechiyot (adjustments) that add an extra month in years 3, 6, 8, 11, 14, 17 and 19 of a 19-year cycle. As a matter of fact, if there is a date in the Jewish calendar that falls on a specific day of the Gregorian calendar (i.e., 1 Tishri=Thursday, September 9), it will fall on that same day and date every 19 years. Under a strictly lunar calendar specific holidays or celebrations, as is the case in the observance of the Islamic period of Ramadan, move from one season to another. The Jewish calendar is thus both a lunar and a solar calendar and is very accurate, although not perfect in any sense of the word. Normally, one would suspect that New Year's Day would be the first day of the first month. That would be a very wrong assumption. Because the original calendar was based on an agrarian culture dealing with planting, praying for rain, reaping and harvesting, the days now reserved as Rosh Hashanah actually occur on the first two days of the seventh month. The very first month on the calendar is found in the spring in the month of Nissan, which coincides with the season when the Exodus from Egypt occurred, and was used administratively during the era of the kings. The modern celebration of Rosh Hashanah was instituted after the destruction of the Second Temple. Scholars note that the original references in the Bible to the holiday were both Yom Hazikaron ("The Day of Remembrance") and Yom Teruah ("Day of the Sounding of the Shofar"). The ten days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur ("Day of Atonement") are called the "Days of Awe," a period of introspection and privation. It is said that the Book of Life is opened on Rosh Hashanah and closed on Yom Kippur. It is one book we all hope to be in year after year.

Love's Labor Day lost

I've been told that "wtf" doesn't stand for "wait till Friday," but there's no authority I can consult on this. I remember when I was a teenager distinctly hearing from my Uncle Irvin that "t.g.i.f." meant "thank God it's Friday" and that "p.o.e.t.s" meant the same thing, more or less, only the phrase was less than clean. When I was in college George Carlin's "seven words" sketch was very popular, but I believe that several of his prohibited-from-broadcasting words are actually heard on a regular basis these days over satellite radio and cable TV. Several have apparently sunk into generally approved acceptance. As a former broadcaster, I had a code of conduct to which I adhered. I never wanted to say anything over the microphone that couldn't be heard by somone's grandmother as in good taste. Yes, I might drop a double entendre every now and then, but it was usually not done in bad taste. Comedians today take a different tack. Programs oftentimes have so many bleeps in them, it's hard to follow them. I can't understand why the people on Jerry Springer and Maury Povich's programs are allowed to say whatever they want with seemingly no repercussions. It's as if the syndication suits have determined as long as we have a machine to bleep out the profanity, let them say whatever comes into their puny little minds. I have always contended that vulgarity, profanity and obscenity are the byproducts of a poor vocabulary. Yet, why is it that today - Labor Day - do I feel like standing from the highest tower and shouting out w.t.f.? It's because a relationship I once treasured has changed forever today and I both mourn its passing and cheer its morphing into one of simple friendship. This is the apex of ambivalence and the nadir of nihilism. Perhaps it is a wonderful thing that Rosh Hashanah is only a few days away. It will be a new year and a new start to work on those things that are right in my life and release the ones that are not productive or might even be considered toxic.

September song

While many of us look to September as the month that signals the end of summer and ushers in traditional things like college and regular season professional football games, I am always struck by the very first day of the month. That's because it is the birthday of my late father, Dr. Arnold Smason. My dad was an O.D., which is a doctor of optometry, an eye specialist in the correction of the human lens. He was quite good at what he did, but excelled in a great many other things too. He did his early morning regimen of crossword puzzles (both of them) and the Jumble® before he finished his morning coffee. And he always did them in pen. I marveled at his energy and industry. He ran two offices - one downtown and another in the bustling Metairie suburb - and arranged his schedule so that he saw early morning and late afternoon patients downtown and late morning and early afternoon patients in Metairie. He did this six days a week and managed to still find time to handle a number of other chores including being active in the Jerusalem Temple Shriners and his Masonic lodge, where he served as treasurer. As a college student during World War II and a child of the Great Depression, he knew that hard work would eventually pay off in his realizing the American dream. But with the war came new challenges and dangers. He elected to become a chemical engineer due to his mathematical prowess and keen understanding of science. Many of his graduating class members were sent off to fight overseas and many of them perished. I am sure he would have served had he been drafted, but another fate awaited him. As soon as he graduated, my dad was given a military deferment and ordered to report for important civilian work at a little town in Tennessee that had blossomed practically overnight into the third largest city in the state. He became a specialist dealing in uranium gas at a complex in Oak Ridge that would, in less than a year, become famous as the place where the first atomic bombs were manufactured. He admitted to me many years later that even he had no idea what they were working on. It would seem only a few higher ups knew what the Manhattan Project was about and only those with a need to know were informed as to what the ramifications of this important work would portend. After the war and his release from service to the country, he settled back in New Orleans expecting to be snatched up in the wake of revitalization in the petroleum engineering firms that were headquartered there. He sent out numerous resumés, but was never granted an interview that resulted in a job offer. At the time there was no law prohibiting a firm from asking applicants personal questions on the application. Every firm requested he state his religion along with name, address and phone number. Curiously, when he wrote down "Jewish" on the form in the space provided, he never got a call back, even though others with less experience did. After a year and a half of waiting and hoping, he decided to go back to school and enrolled at the Southern Illinois College of Optometry. Three years later, after attending classes, teaching, dipping ice cream and holding other assorted odd jobs he graduated with his O.D. degree. He came back to New Orleans and in short order became the head of the optical department at Maison Blanche, then the largest department store in the busy downtown shopping district. In a story I read on his appointment, it was noted he was the youngest department head at the busy downtown location. It wasn't long after that he was married to my mom and had started his family. He became noted as an outstanding optometrist and one one of the first in the city to offer what we now know as "hard" contact lenses for his patients. He eventually left Maison Blanche to start up his own practice, which he kept downtown at various locations. Later he took on work for the Cole National Corporation, which outfitted the optical departments at Sears and Montgomery Ward stores. Due to state laws, optometrists either worked for themselves or for other doctors, but they were compensated for sales they made through the optical departments at Sears and other locations run by Cole. Cole National was founded in Cleveland, Ohio, by a very interesting and dynamic fellow named Joseph Cole. At one point in the 1990s, it was the third largest optical retailer in the country. Interestingly, this is yet another connection I have to Cleveland, the site of my exodus following Hurricane Katrina. In any event some 15 plus years after he passed away, I am still thinking about my father and the legacy he left behind, especially on his birthday every year.

Harry Shearer's "The Big Uneasy"

Harry Shearer, producer, director and writer of "The Big Uneasy"

©Alan Smason

Harry Shearer is a man on a mission. The mission is one of information that everyone who lives in New Orleans already knows, that the flood that followed Hurricane Katrina was not a natural disaster, but in reality a man-made disaster. Shearer's film premiered last night in New Orleans and in 200 other movie theaters across the country. It was intentionally shown on the day following the fifth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina's landfall in Louisiana In order to maximize its impact. In the film "The Big Uneasy" he lays the blame for the levee breaches squarely on the shoulders of the United States Army Corps of Engineers. Shearer's provocative film tells the story of what he believes is a coordinated campaign nationwide to discredit those that differ with the "official" version of the flood that suggest the levees fell victim to the high winds and storm surge that topped the levees. The film revolves about several respected engineers and a whistleblower within the Corps who all have reached the conclusion that the system of levees failed due to shoddy construction and bad engineering on the part of the very agency assigned with the task of protecting the city. The biggest star of the film is recently dismissed L.S.U. professor Ivor van Heerden (currently suing the state for wrongful termination), whose now dismantled Hurricane Center in Baton Rouge eerily predicted that a direct hit or near miss of a substantial hurricane could bring about catastrophic failures of the levee system and cause the Mississippi River Gulf Outlet (called "Mr. Go" by locals) to overflow its banks. Van Heerden is joined by University of California at Berkeley engineering professor Bob Bea in what is a well-documented indictment of the Corps of Engineers. Their findings and detailed analysis show that the levees collapsed from beneath ground and that they never were topped by the storm surge associated with the storm. John Goodman figures in the film with the comic relief of "Ask a New Orleanian," a series of questions that give more than answers. Voice overs included several by fellow New Orleans residents Brad Pitt and Jennifer Coolidge, who along with Shearer's on camera narratives were eager to help set the record straight. Shearer said that the reason he felt compelled to make the film - financed entirely out of his own pocket - was that the news media has not told the story. The Corps is exempt from any damages that might arise out of flood-related damages from the structures they maintain by law, but as Shearer so carefully points out, it has an incestuous relationship with Congress. Congressmen consider the Corps as their favorite tool to implement water projects in their home districts. Set asides make Congressmen appear to be doing something and can guarantee re-election of incumbents. Although it is a serious film, there are moments of levity in the documentary that help keep it moving along at an enjoyable pace. Like Pitt, Goodman and Coolidge, Shearer was not born in New Orleans, but came here to live and enjoy its many amenities along with his wife, singer-songwriter Judith Owen. Many celebrities like Sandra Bullock and Nicholas Cage have found the music, the food and the lifestyle too hard to resist. Shearer has made a point for his adopted city and assumed the title of a documentary film maker in the process. Known for his starring role in "This is Spinal Tap," but in more recent years for his many voice characterizations on "The Simpsons," Shearer unabashedly stated he used "Rupert Murdock's money" to fund the film. Good show, Harry. Good show.

The Obama Nation

President Obama talks on the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina

Yesterday for reasons only the powers that be can explain, I was inside Xavier University awaiting the address by our nation's 44th President, Barack Hussein Obama. I had been given press credentials in the course of working in my capacity as a reporter and sometimes editor for Southern Jewish Life Magazine. The waiting game is always unnerving for reporters. The byword is always hurry up and wait for every member of the Fourth Estate and even worse for television or still camera photographers. The setup time recommended for them by the White House was 7:30-8:30 a.m. Mind you, the speech was scheduled to begin around 2:00 p.m., so getting up at the crack of dawn to place equipment and mark off one's spot was not especially appetizing to many members of the news media. Nevertheless, those are the rules and don't ever forget that the rules exist to keep everyone in check. The Secret Service and other White House staffers were running around the auditorium, checking out even the slightest hint of impropriety. I behaved like an angel, of course. When the Internet connection was not available, I didn't even complain. When the place they allowed me to sit was located behind the riser for the cameras, I didn't even murmur my discontent. I could, after all, still see the stage through the legs of the cameramen and, after all, that's what long camera lenses and binoculars are for, right? I heard the President talk about many things. After talking about his lunch, which made me hungry, at Parkway Bakery and Tavern (alligator sausage and a shrimp poboy), he mentioned the dedication of the volunteers who have helped rebuild New Orleans. He talked about the tenacity of people like Norman Francis, the president of Xavier University who promised only a few weeks after Hurricane Katrina that the nation's only black Catholic university (and the only one founded by a legitimate saint) would rise from the ashes like a veritable phoenix in just a few short months. To his credit, the university did just that, reopening its doors to students in January of 2006. The President also acknowledged the hard work of students like Jade Young, Miss Xavier 2010, who came back after the hurricane and focused on her studies. As a freshman pharmacy student, she introduced the nation's chief executive and told the audience of how grateful she was to her school and to all those who helped support her during the travails experienced during the rebuilding and recovery efforts. When the President and First Lady appeared, the cheers of the crowd of supporters and politicians rang out loudly in the auditorium and in typical fashion, the President spoke with eloquence and simplicity in promising that the federal government would never desert New Orleans in the future. The only promise many of the local political figures like Governor Bobby Jindal would have liked to hear was that the White House would consider suspending the current moratorium on Gulf oil rigs. But that didn't happen and probably won't for some time to come. It was a wonderful day for people to discover that New Orleans doesn't consider itself a victim anymore. Mayor Mitch Landrieu, who was in attendance and shook my hand as he left, has long stated that we have shifted from rebuilding the city that was into building the city we want in the future. He and his sister, U. S. Senator Mary Landrieu, appeared earlier in the day on nationwide TV broadcasts of "Meet the Press" and on local broadcasts, acknowledging the solemn occasion of the fifth anniversary of the landfall of Hurricane Katrina in Louisiana. It was a remarkable day of remembrance and a special day of looking forward, not backward, as the city and state moves ahead with such things as master plans and other efforts designed to make the city even stronger than it is now.

First Person commentary in the Cleveland Jewish News

For nearly two years after Hurricane Katrina I worked as a staff reporter for the Cleveland Jewish News (CJN). Today's online CJN edition features a First Person commentary by this humble reporter on the fifth anniversary of the storm (a smaller piece was slated to be published in the paper itself). The CJN is an unusual community newspaper, which is run by an independent board that serves the estimated 80,000 Jews living there. Since my return to New Orleans, I have continued to submit stories of interest to the community members there, including several on conditions here in New Orleans as well as the evacuation from Hurricane Gustav in 2008. Considered one of the top such newspapers in the country, the CJN continues to make incredible strides in journalism and with innovations to their web site during a tenuous time in the economy and a downward trend for the newspaper industry in general. My commentary can be found here.