Words for the Wise #3

Well, I am guilty of profound cunctation in my philological series, so to make up for it, here's a doozy:

deipnosophist \dyp-NOS-uh-fist\ (n.): One who is skilled in table talk.

At the age of six his future as a deipnosophist seemed certain. Guzzling filched apples he loved to prattle. Hogging the pie he invariably piped up and rattled on.
- Ellis Sharp, 'The Bloating of Nellcock

Deipnosophist comes from the title of a work written by the Greek Athenaeus in about 228 AD, Deipnosophistai, in which a number of wise men sit at a dinner table and discuss a wide range of topics. It is derived from deipnon (dinner) + sophistes (a wise or clever man).

Unfortunately, in the Jewish world, rampant deipnosophistry (and pseudodeipnosophistry) is responsible for many a cunctative and thus curtailed Shabbos nap.

The other words in this series can always be found here.

More Fire Safety

Sometime after my earlier fire-safety post, I received an email with this video about how to properly extinguish a grease fire. I'm posting it here (and yes, I vet all email forwards on Snopes or similar) for further dissemination.

Here's what happens when you try to extinguish such a fire with water- the water, being denser than the oil, sinks to the bottom of the pot where it instantly becomes superheated and vaporized. This newly created steam rises up with intense pressure, blowing the burning oil up and out, filling an enclosed space with a fireball. Different but similar results occur when trying to use sugar or flour to extinguish the flames.



(courtesy of Lisa S.)

Aural Fixation

I've been pining after these computer speakers for some time. I splurged and bought them on sale (a wee sale, but a sale nonetheless). They arrived this week and I had them set up in time for ל"ג בעומר (Lag Ba'omer), when we bring back the music sweet music. I have to say, I've owned some serious music equipment before (or at least gear that took itself seriously), but I've never owned anything like these. One of the first tracks I queued up was this one:

powered by ODEO

It's from "New Shabbos Waltz," Andy Statman and David Grisman's awesome follow-up to their stupendous "Songs of Our Fathers." (Please don't mistake my enthusiastic endorsements for hyperbole.) With these speakers, I feel like I'm in the studio with these bearded Yidden. No, scratch that- it sounds like the studio is in my head. With such clarity and fidelity of sound, I'm enjoying my music on another level. (I haven't heard with such sensitivity since an ear-wax-removal incident I won't further elaborate in your polite company.)

Ultimately, with this and some other recent acquisitions, I hope to begin recording this summer some of the music I've written in the past eight years. In honor of these plans, I've added a new guitar tuner to my blog page (check it out on the lower right).

Playing with fire

מועדים לשמחה
Last week, I went to burn our chametz behind a local shul where, as every year, they have set up a couple garbage can bonfires. (When I used to work near the UN, I just threw my chametz into the East River.) I hung around after tossing my 10 rye bread cubes into the inferno because it wasn't much of a conflagration and needed some help. The fires were so confined and so many people's chametz just choked the flames.

I understand people throwing in their dried out lulavim as kindling, but last year's afikomen? A few people tossed in the remains of their Chanukah paraphernalia, wick holders and wax candles. Most infuriating was the person who threw in moist, raw dough. All that does is put out the fire, it'll never burn. Most perplexing, though, was the pair of BVDs. Huh?

So I stayed around to try to keep the flames alive and keep people safe (leave the plastic bags out of the flames, please!). Maybe we Jews are just pyromaniacs at heart. I conclude with a cautionary video of a biur chametz from two years ago. Thank God, no one was hurt, but those in attendance learned that water sometimes spreads fuel rather than extinguishing the flames. Be careful out there.

Black, it's the new piety

In very religious neighborhoods in Israel, you will see signs posted in the street requesting that women honor the sanctity of the community and dress modestly. This sign (pashkevil) was seen posted in Ramat Aviv Gimmel, a very high end secular neighborhood of North Tel Aviv. It was posted anonymously to an Israeli forum. (You can click on the picture for a larger, more legible version.)

With the help of the blessed brand name,

To those who pass through our neighborhood! We emphatically request: Do not pass through our neighborhood if you are not dressed stunningly.

Stunning dress includes: A Dolce & Gabbana poncho; touches of pink on the collar; a short, asymmetrical Gucci jacket with fur; Chanel high heeled shoes.

Please do not disturb the sanctity of our neighborhood and our lifestyle as dedicated consumers of the holy brand names!

-Neighborhood Salespeople, Institutes of Shopping and Kindness, Community Council

(courtesy of A Time of the Signs)

Spring fever

Well, the weather is finally warming up, and we're all feeling a little restless. I just had to share this one. Enjoy!



(courtesy of Mom)

BYOManischewitz

If you should find yourself below the Mason-Dixon you may want to check out these events. The Anti-Defamation League compiles a list of upcoming extremist events coming soon to a trailer park near you (I'd call 'em white trash, but am refraining out of respect for the ADL's mission).

Don't forget to RSVP for the National Klonvocation, White Christian Heritage Festival, Adolf Hitler Memorial and BBQ, and Passover Gathering 2008(?!) - I'll see you there.

(courtesy of Padmini I.)

Tragically neglected

I know it's been a while, and things are still busy, but I just wanted to give y'all a quick update of what's been going on (some of them atavistic to this time last year).

First off, our trip to Israel (with a jaunt to Jordan) was awesome and successful. I hope to write more on that later.

The day before we left, T.'s back went out again, though not as bad as last year. The El Al agent was able to give us a three-seat row with an empty seat so T could stretch out during the long flight home. Thankfully, her back much better now.

I went through the externship application rigmarole again (including a more compassionate, less stressful version of last year's bird-in-the-hand/two-in-the-bush dilemma). I ended up accepting an position (which was offered on the spot!) at a geriatric outpatient/partial hospitalization clinic. Who knew there'd be so many elderly people there?

Last week, I developed an intensely painful infection in one of my wisdom teeth. Long story short, I lost several night's sleep, had all three wisdom teeth extracted, and am recovering decently, having just returned to eating solid foods (mostly). I will miss the pizza smoothie, though.

More to come, I promise!

P.S. It's actually not rigamarole. Go know...

Birthday Manifesto 1999

Though Russell provides an explanation below, here's a more recent preface. Wow- nostalgia can really make you wince sometimes, but I'm not one for (much) revision of history.

Well, here I am. I've come upon yet another birthday. In the past year I've made some new friends and, unfortunately, lost others. But the world abides to spin 'round, regardless. For the newbies, I'll let my associate Russell fill you in:

Hi there. My real name's not Russell, but I thought a pseudonym would be appropriate for this occasion, as I don't wish to shame my family name or myself. For the past several years, [PH] (or Case # 6655321, as he may be known to some of you) has followed a tradition of issuing a bombast-laden proclamation to the inhabitants of his world at large on the occasion of his birthday. If you did not hap to receive any of the previous ones, do not fret. Please don't take your exclusion as an expression of [P]'s feelings towards you, he wasn't fortunate enough to know you at those times. If he did, I apologize for him; he's just a little slow. Unfortunately, most of [P]'s ramblings from the past were consumed in the Great Brine Shrimp Fire of '97. Only that year's proclamation survived, joined by last year's. These promulgations are available to view on the World Wide Web. Future issuances will be added as they occur. The address is as follows:
http://members.aol.com/rugachover/bday.html

Thank you for that, Russell, I sincerely appreciate it. Now that everything is in order, I would like to address the issue of competition, as well as righteous pride. I realize that it's a bit of a diversion from the usual focus of this letter, but I was made all too aware of its caustic, disruptive invasion into our lives by a dream I had one stormy night, several weeks ago. I dreamt that Ronald McDonald and Colonel Sanders were fighting over my soul. Now that in and of it would not be particularly disturbing, but what really shocked me was that this affray took place in the courtyard of a dilapidated building in downtown Omaha.

It became painfully obvious to my therapist and me that something would have to be changed, as far as my bedtime snack was concerned. We cannot be certain if it was the pickled blueberries, the imitation poppy extract, or the aged tandoori, but I was not going to risk future slumbers (and possible somnambulations) on continuing any part of this reprehensible diet.

That is how I came to calm myself before bed and temper my jangled nerves by reading or composing poetry. But do I read William Wordsworth's "Lines" (Written a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, on Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour, July 13, 1798)? Or perhaps "The Æolian Harp" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge? You can see my dilemma. I became so distraught by Wordsworth and Coleridge's incessant bickering in my head that to teach them both a lesson they wouldn't soon forget, I soothed my nerves with a dog-eared issue of Casper the Friendly Ghost.
There is a lesson to be learned for us all from my quasi-deranged rambling. It may well serve you in the future. Please, when you are entangled in an argument, forgo pride and think of the greater good.
You'll be glad you did.
Peace be with you.

_p

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perambulate through the door
retrogress to the future before