This is not a “nice “story

On Sunday morning I took Max, our dearly beloved dog, for a walk as usual. It was early in the morning, not my usual winter 7:30 a.m. or so, but more like 9:00 a.m. since it was Sunday. It was about -20 degrees Celsius (-4 Fahrenheit), not an altogether pleasant temperature for walking.
We were a few blocks into the walk when Max had to go, and I was happy! He “did his business” and I took out my plastic bag from my pocket, unrolled it, put my hand inside and using it like a glove, picked up the “poop” and rolled the bag back around it, and put it back, all in plastic, into my coat packet, as usual.

We moved forward to continue the rest of the walk. Lo and behold, Max had to go again within a few feet. This was a rare case; he only does this maybe once every few months, going twice. I stopped, let him go at it, pulled out the bag, and removed my glove from my right hand as usual because I can’t do much with gloves on. I opened the bag, stuck my hand in and scooped up the rest of his doings. Within moments I realized I had managed to open the bag the wrong way and what was in my hand was a lump of dogshit!

I was picking up the rest correctly, in the unused portion of the outside of the bag!

After a moment of panic, I started to laugh!

I was freezing!

There was a lump of dog shit in my hand!

I had to do something with Max, my dog, the bag and the dog shit all at the same time and I had to get home.

BTW, I had to not put my glove back on because I’d ruin the glove!

Step#1- Get the bag closed on both lumps!

Step #2- Spit on my hand and wipe it on my pants!

Step #3- Get my right glove into my left coat pocket and the bag in my right pocket!

Step#4- Walk Max quickly home with my hand, as well as I could possibly do it, inside my right coat pocket being careful not to wipe it on the sides and hold on to the bag!

Step#5- Do not run into any neighbors who wished to talk! (Not a probability at -20c)

Step#6- Remember the sequence of events so I could write this post.

Beyond the Explainable

image from eyehook.com
My father-in-law passed away on January 27, sometime during the night as he slept, in a nursing home in New Jersey. He had been in the home for the past 18 months and his death came as no surprise, although a death is always a surprise it seems.


I will not go on into a eulogy at this point, as I will be setting up a separate site as a memorial, but instead I’d like to pass on a little story which seems to have significance for this event.

I checked with my mother-in-law later in the day to see if the nursing home could give a time of death, but there were, of course, no monitors and all they could say was that he passed away sometimes before they had gone in to try and wake him. She received the call about 8:00 in the morning.

My wife stayed home and waited for my daughter to return from her exam at high school that morning, and when she told her, my daughter was distraught. Here are the events that occurred the evening before.

I woke up at 12:45 a.m. and came downstairs, not an unusual event, I am always waking up in the middle of the night and coming down to watch some TV until I fall asleep again. I reached up to get a cereal bowl, a nightly routine, when two bowls came crashing down, hitting me in the head right before hitting the counter top, smashing, and falling to the floor scattering broken china all about the room and me. This could have woken up anyone, but I stood quite still waiting to hear stirring sounds before I started to clean up and heard none. I was trying to get my fruit and cereal before going to watch Ghost Hunters, a nightly, when possible, event. I usually, if I can get to the 1:00 a.m. show, watch for about 15 minutes and fall asleep waiting for something to happen. It’s usually a boring show made exciting, as we all wait in anticipation for anything to happen but it never or seldom does.

My daughter woke up at 12:46 a.m., having just had an upsetting dream. She was with our family in my father-in-law’s nursing home when my other daughter was going to try and find her grandfather, whose room had been moved. (This had not really happened but was planned in real life.)

My daughter told her not to go up front to find the new room as their grandfather had not been moved and was right here in this room. However, when she went to go to the room, she was confronted by a sitting figure, a grim reaper sitting outside the room dressed in black with a black hood. Then she woke up!

As I said, “I checked with my mother-in-law later in the day to see if the nursing home could give a time of death, but there were, of course, no monitors and all they could say was that he passed away sometimes before they had gone in to try and wake him. She received the call about 8:00 in the morning.”

I assured her that to the best of my knowledge, my father-in-law had passed at about 12:46 a.m………

Greek Meatballs

I haven’t done a food post in a long time and I feel the need coming on. In my non-linear thinking, why not? It seems to be I just go with what I’m thinking, and fortunately or unfortunately, much of my life had worked that way.

These were fantastic last week. I served them with a Greek salad, orzo, small frozen spinach pies (Spanakopita) from the supermarket and pita on the side. It was a big hit around here.

I hope you appreciate the stories listed on the right side of this blog. They are the top five viewed stories since I started writing this in February, 2009. Give them a look if you have time.


Greek Meatballs

(Adapted from 2005’s South Beach Diet Quick and Easy Cookbook)

1 pound lean ground beef

½ small onion finely chopped

2 cloves garlic finely chopped or 2 tsp. garlic from a jar

½ cup finely crumbled feta cheese (measure crumbled)

1 large egg beaten

1 T extra virgin olive oil

1 T dried oregano

4 tsp. red wine vinegar

½ tsp. salt

¼ tsp. fresh ground black pepper

1 tsp. Greek seasoning (surprisingly available in the supermarket, I never knew it was there)

Preheat oven to 400.

I micro waved the onion for 30 seconds to remove the”bite” of using raw onion.

Combine all ingredients in a large bowl with your hands.

Place parchment paper on a large cookie sheet and form approximately 24 meatballs and place on sheet.

Bake for 20 minutes and turn, bake for another 10 minutes, turn again for another 1 to 10 minutes, until they are brown and cooked through.

They will look awful during the cooking process because the cheese and the vinegar oozes out during cooking and you need to get to that beautiful browned, caramelized state.

Serve with Tzatziki Sauce, easily available at all supermarkets.

I want to see my movies in Pikesville...

“My father never lived to see his dream come true of an all-Yiddish-speaking Canada.” - David Steinberg



“Anytime a person goes into a delicatessen and orders pastrami on white bread, somewhere a Jew dies.” - Milton Berle

“I was raised in the Jewish tradition, taught never to marry a Gentile woman, shave on Saturday and most especially never to shave a Gentile woman on Saturday”. - Woody Allen


I want to see certain movies in my old neighborhood. It’s not a nostalgic thing; it’s a very practical experience to see Jewish themed movies in a Jewish neighborhood.

I always remember in 1974 I saw “Blazing Saddles” in Kansas City. It was a great movie and no, not a particularly Jewish movie.

But, when Mel Brooks says, as the Indian Chief, "Shvartses! (Blacks!) (To Indian raising tomahawk): No, no, zayt nisht meshuge! (Don't be crazy!) (Raising arms to the heavens in stereotypical Indian pose): Loz im geyn! (Let him go!) Cop a walk, it's alright. Abi gezint! (As long as you're healthy!) Take off! (To other Indians): Hosti gezen in dayne lebn? (Have you ever seen such a thing?) They darker than us...", I cried! I screamed! I suddenly realized in the eerie silence that I was the only person in the movie who got the joke!

I have no idea if it’s better to see “Moonstruck” in an Italian neighborhood, or even the “Godfather”, but parts of these films and others will play better in their home territory.

Again, I was the lone Jew when I saw “Sleeper” in 1973. In the scene where they are trying to emulate Woody Allen’s early home life memories, they say in the family tableau, “Stop whining and eat your shiksa!” (This being a non-Jewish female and misused in this context) I screamed! I laughed! I was deafened by the silence. Someone else needs to be there with me to laugh! I felt foolish when it wasn’t necessary.

I saw 1969’s Goodbye Columbus in the “hood” as described. The wedding scene was so real, it was like so many of the weddings I had attended. It was perfect, and was understood by the whole audience.

Crossing Delancy is a wonderful valentine about Jewish Americans in Manhattan. I saw this one with the same kind of ethnic audience that would understand. For that’s why they attended.

All of this was brought to mind by my attendance last weekend of the film, “Barney’s Version”. I loved the book by Mordecai Richler. It is a Canadian story, and I saw it in a Canadian theater. However, it’s a Jewish story, and the wedding scene in this movie is the best! I screamed in this film, there is so much humor as well as sadness, but it was a scream. But, as I mentioned, I was one of very few screamers! They just didn’t get it!

This does not mean that you can only eat Chinese food if you are Chinese or anything silly thing like that, I’m just saying that for me, I like to laugh and cry with the group. I need to see my Jewish themed movies in Pikesville, MD, or somewhere that I won’t be that lonely face in the crowd.

“Even if you are Catholic, if you live in New York you're Jewish. If you live in Butte, Montana, you are going to be goyish even if you are Jewish.” - Lenny Bruce

Dying, One Part at a Time

I had scheduled a dental appointment today, for a re-crowning of an existing crown. This was a tooth that had a root canal already and a crown, and now had decay underneath. My dental insurance does not cover crowns but it was needed, and more are coming.

I went this morning at 8:00 a.m. and the doctor started. It was hard work removing the existing crown, and after 45 minutes, he took off his glasses, took off his gloves and turned to me and said, “There’s no reason to continue, there’s nothing more I can do”.

In a Doctor drama this would be the defining moment of the movie when they open the patient up on the operating table and look inside and declare, “There’s no reason to continue, there’s nothing more I can do”.

After a few awkward moments of discussion, it became clear that no matter what the solution, the first step was removing the tooth. The stub that was left was not to stay, even though I suggested solutions with plaster or chewing gum or perhaps a “flipper”, this tooth was going out.

With a phone call they were able to arrange a visit to the dental surgeon at 11:00 a.m., which gave me time to go to work, deal with a few people and some email, pick up my daughter and a friend from high school exams, drop them at home and get back to the new dentist.

I filled in forms and signed my life away, and was ushered into the room. The tooth next to the offending stub had just added a filling and this new dentist was given instructions not to use that tooth as a fulcrum for removal of the leftover stub. This created additional problems as the removal now had to use many tools. These tools came out and went into my mouth like the tool section of Canadian Tire. He used knives and drills and levers and pliers and finally the pieces came out and I was through.

I was sewn up, given gauze and instructions and sent packing. I was given Tylenol 3, which I’m on as I write this story, although I asked (at both dental offices) for medical marijuana, but to no avail.

I will get an implant or a bridge or a piece of chewing gum, or plaster or a flipper eventually, but for now let the healing begin! It’s back on the lower right and the filling and probably the extraction should be covered by insurance. I have another crown scheduled in a few weeks, a Valentines Day present, and let us hope that this part has not yet died!

Getting old sucks! We all know that, but I expected to be hit by the bus or shot by the jealous husband, not to die one part at a time!

The University Refund

My daughter and I received the following (slightly abbreviated) email:

McGill University
January 12, 2011

This is a notification that your monthly e-bill from Student Accounts is ready.
You have a credit balance of $0.61.

You can choose to leave the credit on your account and it will automatically be applied

towards future charges, e.g. the next semester's tuition and fees. Conversely, you may request

a refund of the credit balance by completing the electronic "Refund Request" form found on

the Student Accounts menu.

Thank You.
McGill University
Financial Services

Please do not respond to this e-mail. Contact information is provided above

should you have any questions. Please provide your McGill id in any correspondence with our office.



I went to her account and looked this up and I found:

NEW! Online refund request form!

In order to request a refund for the credit balance on your account, please complete the new online Refund Request form. The new form can be found on the Student menu ‐> Student Accounts menu ‐>Refund Request menu, or by copying and pasting the URL


I went to the URL and found:

This has moved to a new server. To reach us, please try our web site. For specific pages, substitute /mcgp/ by /pban1/ in your link text. If you reached this page by clicking a link on a McGill site, PDF, email, etc., please notify the ICS Service Desk in order to correct the link.


There is no way to understand or do what they have said. I have no recourse at this point, I guess I’ll just have to leave the credit on the account and it will automatically be applied towards future charges, e.g. the next semester's tuition and fees. I will lose the power and the interest on the $.61, but the school will be able to benefit from the donation I hope.

Maybe they will send me a tax receipt for the interest earned.

The Music in The King's Speech (plus the real speech at the end)

I wanted to write something about the music in “The King’s Speech”. I loved the film and was hardly aware of the score, although it’s quite good by itself.


But there's a moment in the film that absolutely soars. It comes near the end when our poor hero has had his coronation and has become George VI after his brother abdicated the throne.

Superbly played by Colin Firth, he dreaded public speaking because of a speech impediment. He was horrified when he had to ascend the throne in 1937 because he knew what the job entailed.

Two years later, he gave a major speech that BBC Radio broadcast throughout the empire, announcing Britain's entry into World War II. The speech serves as the climax of the film.

The film lets time drag as we see him struggle to form words. It's excruciating. I found myself tensing up each time he tries.

The buildup to the climax begins as he and Logue (his speech therapist) walk Buckingham Palace's endless corridors toward the broadcast room, passing dozens of broadcasters who wish him well. At last, they enter the room with the microphone. They're alone. Logue throws open the window -- he believes fresh air helps -- as the King tries to compose himself.

The countdown begins -- four blinks of a red light followed by steady red. The King’s fear is hard to watch.

And then as he first struggles, we hear ominous musical chords. Moments later, the calm, gentle Allegretto of Beethoven's Seventh Symphony spreads over the pulsing rhythm.

With Logue silently prompting him through the difficult spots, the sweet, melancholic music unfolds, building in intensity, then subsiding, lasting exactly as long as the speech.

The scene brims with feeling between patient and therapist, who went on to became lifelong friends. It's a wondrous moment. If ever music and plot matched, this is it.

A moment later, at the movie's ending, we hear more Beethoven: the slow movement of the "Emperor" Piano Concerto. It too, is a perfect fit.

Music never really plays a crucial role as the events of The King’s Speech play out. There is this but one powerful example of music in the film’s climactic scene,

The musical score for The King’s Speech is by Alexandre Desplat,

Beethoven's Symphony No. 7, the allegretto movement has been heard in a few other films, most recently in the film “Knowing”’ with Nicholas Cage”.










King George's actual speech ::

http://archives.cbc.ca/on_this_day/12/25/