Shabbat! Or, holy cow, what a meal!

SO, I met and became friends with someone, in ProVisors, who grew up in a Jewish community that was very orthodox.  I would not-so-subtly hint, "Hey, I have never been to a traditional Shabbat dinner."  Or, "When are you going to invite us over?"  I have great appreciation for people devoted to their customs, traditions and faith, and wanted to experience something that goes way back.  In my mind, the meal was a simple ritualistic event that recognized the Sabbath with food and activities that were symbolic in nature. (I don't know why, but I expected unleavened bread and bitter herbs.)  But with Covid and circumstances of life, our getting together just kept getting kicked down the road.  Until last night!

I shot Naomi an email a couple months ago, telling her my wife Tracy and I would be together in town on a certain date, and we penciled it in.  Then as the day approached, Naomi's oven broke down, but not to worry, because we can do it at her husband's parents' home.  Great!  The more the merrier!

I jumped online so I could be aware of what to expect.  Tracy texted me an article on how to be a good guest at Shabbat.  We got a nice plant, not cut flowers because that would require the hostess to have to put them in water.  We left our phones and Apple watches in the car, so we didn't engage in any technology.  (Which is why I need to get a new Rolex.)  We were going to knock instead of hit the doorbell, and if we went to the bathroom, we were not going to turn off the light.  We were ready!

Upon arrival, we were met by "Shoshona," which I know I spelled it wrong . . . but she went by "Bubbe," which any Bubbe knows is as sacred a name as there can be.  She was incredibly kind and welcoming and put our plant on the center of the island where she was organizing dinner.  The island had a sink, and there were two sets of everything in the kitchen- sink, oven . . . everything.  Naomi and her husband Ryan provided some insight on why, separating meat and milk, and Bubbe's husband Morris passed out books with songs, as well as their translations.  I tried to follow along, but to say I was clueless is an understatement.  Bubbe and Morris had other guests there as well to share in the meal, which made for a wonderful evening. 

Morris baked two loaves of the tastiest bread I have ever had, and it was nonchalantly explained that his father was a baker. We were advised of the symbolism of the two loaves, the cutting board, the covering and eating it.  We ceremoniously washed our hands with a container with two handles, keeping quiet until something happened after which we could then talk again. Naomi guided Tracy and I on the words to say and probably fought back the urge to snicker at my poor attempts to repeat what she said.

Then Bubbe started the meal with several courses that can only be described with one word: feast.  The salads and chopped liver and other initial offerings were great, and the split pea soup was better than Anderson's.  I was told it was ok to dip the bread in the soup, (I wanted to respect the bread!) but I was really just soaking it all up so the bowl was clean.  The main courses, with chicken, vegetarian turkey, and several other dishes make my mouth water just thinking about them.  And the dessert was this chocolate cake with a nutty frosting that would put anything I had a restaurant to shame.  Seriously, this was in every way a feast.

(I would insert a picture here of all that awesomeness, but I followed the rules and left my iPhone in my truck.)

As I was feeling my shirt get tighter, I all of a sudden felt a little guilty about inviting myself over. What I thought would be a simple ceremonial meal to recognize the Sabbath was an extra-ordinary meal to welcome the Sabbath, enjoy one another, and to celebrate faith.  Had I known, I still would have been all over an invitation, but I would not have been so forward in soliciting an invitation, but I am glad I did.

Morris the Patriarch was gracious, hospitable and provided wonderful insight.  Bubbe winked at me like a favorite aunt when Naomi was explaining to Tracy and I what was going on, and the concept of saying blessings on so many different things.  We experienced love and kindness from new friends in way that, almost four hours later on the ride home, Tracy and I could hardly stop talking about. How wonderful it is to increase in your own faith while experiencing another's.  I will not forget our evening together.

So, to my Jewish friends . . . my applications are out for Friday night dinner! :-) 

What Makes America The Greatest Country in The World?

I am a big Aaron Sorkin fan, enjoying most of the stuff he puts out there, including the opening scene from his HBO series, "The Newsroom," where "sorority girl" asked him the above question.  In fact, my wife Tracy and I saw Sorkin's production of, "To Kill a Mockingbird" on Broadway a few months ago.  Loved it.  But even though Jeff Daniels was great as Atticus Finch, it was Celia Keenan-Bolger who stole the stage as Scout.

Living in the age of identity politics today means not only people separating themselves out due to certain political ideologies, but innocent bystanders being lumped into those groups based on what party they belong to.  Or where they live.  Don't believe me?  Try driving a car with California plates in Idaho, or some other state where folks believe California residency means alignment with Gavin Newsom. Yeah, I am a conservative, but note that my favorite show was "The West Wing." 

Tracy and I saw Brandi Carlile three times in the past few years and absolutely love her music; and actually, we really like her as well. If there is anyone on the opposite side of the political spectrum from me, it is Brandi Carlile.  But after the show below, (how 'bout them seats!) where she was interviewed at the Grammy Museum before for about 30 minutes, and hearing her sing songs like, "By The Way, I Forgive You," "The Mother," and "Fulton County Jane," it became clear that despite our differences, there is much more we have in common than not.  But you wouldn't know that if you believe the media.     

So what makes America great?  Check out the below picture of a hard fought tilt on the pitch last weekend.  Those little 5 year olds had their coaches on the field coaching, substituting players in, officiating, tying shoelaces, high fiving, encouraging kids get up to keep playing after falling, and creating an atmosphere where the kids enjoyed the heck out of the game.  My daughter Courtney is in the black, and she is coaching her #2 while pregnant with #5.  The opposing coach also had a bun cookin', and she had an injured leg, so she limped around the field.

This sort of thing is replicated all over the country, with moms and dads and others getting off work early, going to meetings, hosting practices, and creating sunshine.  I could not help but think that America's greatness is related to what I saw on Saturday.

Of course, I may be just a dad proud of his little girl coaching her little girl, but I am ok with that bias.

10,663 Days with Kids, And Now Empty Nesters

Well, what do you know . . . that day that old folks warned us about snuck right up on us.  Yep, our kids, "before you know it," did grow up too fast!  Not sure how that happened, but my wife of nearly 31 years and I find ourselves in an interesting situation.  Empty nesters!

Courtney is off and married with a small tribe of her own, Lindsey is making a life for herself in Portland, Oregon, and Jake is abroad serving a mission in Edmonton. (Canada is "abroad," right?)  And just like that, here we are!  This beach pic is what first pops into my mind when I think about our little family.  

Since January of this year, Tracy and I have learned a lot about being empty nesters, so hit me up for advice. Or, "Slide into my DMs." We are all in this together. 

Actually, Tracy and I are digging this stage in our lives right now, and here are a few notes . . .

First off, we are intentional about keeping the home fires burning.  One of our favorite movies is "It's A Wonderful Life," which we watch every Christmas.  We can often find it on the big screen at one of our local theaters, but we love that heck out of that flick.  For our last Valentine's Day, I had my friends at Social Spice Media create a nice little surprise for Tracy, which hangs in our place in Utah:

If you don't know the movie, you won't get the reference. 

Second, priorities.  Tracy and I prioritize time together, and while we would love to see family and friends, right now we are spread a bit too thin; so we make sure that our time is our time. Dinner, movie, whatever . . . it is usually just us.

This is how family pictures will probably look like from now on!  Pretty nice that we can walk to church with Mt Timpanogos in the background.  Was a bit cool, but that is what jackets are for!

Watching BYU vs Gonzaga in basketball.  Was a good night for Zag fans!  Really glad that we both love to see sporting events.

Great trip between the holidays to NYC and Boston . . . summer trip to the UK and fall in Nashville are in the queue! 

Grabbing a bite at The Foundry at Sundance. Date nights are huge for us. . . so we ate dinner here before watching the Missouri vs Utah Valley wrestling match.  MO crushed 'em, but UVU made a nice showing.

Enjoying a birthday party, together, that involved too many sweets! 

We.Are.So.Cultured. Immersive Van Gogh in Hollyweird, totally worth the hype.  Really enjoyed this.

We sometimes have company on date nights- above is the first of many dance recitals, and we enjoyed dinner before and dessert after!

Enjoying the Ute's Spring Football game.  In rain, hail, and wind . . . springtime in Utah.  Again, just us, and afterwards we shared a 40oz porterhouse at Ruth's Chris!

Keeping busy is not a problem.  Tracy is enjoying her gig teaching first grade at Midway Elementary School, and I am enjoying the business down in California while trying to open up in Salt Lake.  We don't feel the weight of kids leaving the nest, we are too busy!  Downsizing seems like a nice empty nester thing to do, unless you're us.  We added the place in Orem, Utah, and I still dream of a cabin in Weaverville.

Empty nesting does not mean we stop worrying about our kids . . . heck, we probably even worry more.  But we do it in the comfort of a quiet living room with our feet up, enjoying a nice chilled bottle of Diet Coke, while watching a period piece on Netflix. 

And to you young parents . . . enjoy it while it lasts; they grow up too fast!