Tonight/tomorrow is Shabbat as usual, followed by Shavu'ot, the holiday celebrating (among things) the receiving of torah at Mt. Sinai. There'll be the usual community-wide late-night study from 10 to 1 Saturday night, and then Sunday morning we'll be doing a joint service with another congregation (our turn to host). Many in the diaspora will keep a second day of the holiday (Monday), though I and my movement do not. So I expect to be back here Sunday night. Shabbat shalom and chag sameach to those who celebrate, happy three-day weekend to the rest of you in the US, and happy weekend to everybody else.

(Today's daf is Nidah 3. I'm not ready to deal with that topic, at least in mixed company, but fortunately, we're still in the Omer and studying Pirke Avot!)

Rabbi Shimon said: be careful with the recitation of the sh'ma and the t'filah (the main prayer). When you pray do not make it a set task but an appeal for mercy and an entreaty before the All-Present. R. Eleazar said: be eager to study torah and know before Whom one toils. R. Tarfon said: the day is short and the work is much, and the workers are indolent, but the reward is great and the Master of the house is insistent. (Avot 2:18-20, excerpted)

With the fixed text of the t'filah in the prayerbook being somewhat long, it can be hard to remember that the text was not always so fixed and to follow Rabbi Shimon's advice.

Part of this meme:

On the Mark:

So it's like this. I enjoy making music, both singing and playing, and while the SCA was providing opportunities to do that, it couldn't scratch the folk-music part of that itch. Filksings at SF cons, while also enjoyable, couldn't scratch much of the itch either; I don't play guitar and I don't write my own songs, so I felt like my offerings there amounted to "reasonably-well-done a-capella songs we've all heard before". But there was this group playing at cons called Clam Chowder that was doing the kinds of music I wanted to do -- rich arrangements, a variety of instruments, a mix of folk songs and filk and "found filk" and the occasional oddball piece. And I wondered if there was room for more of that kind of thing in fandom and perhaps occasional coffeehouses and stuff, so I asked three musical SCA friends if this sounded interesting to them, and it did, and off we went. (Because we were all in the SCA, we could easily incorporate the renaissance music we were already doing there into other performances -- bonus!)

Now this all worked pretty well when we were in our 20s and didn't have such demanding jobs and I wasn't yet paying attention to Shabbat and the only group members who were married were married to each other. We had a lot of fun for about 15 years and then shut it down on a high note. We didn't want to be one of those groups that slowly degrades while its friends sigh and hope you'll put it out of their misery, y'know?

I still listen to our CDs (well, mp3s now) sometimes and, well, gosh, we were pretty good. In my biased opinion. :-) I wish we'd done more music that we'd be free and clear to post online; I'd like to be able to share.

Part of this meme:

LISP

The most valuable part of my education as a technical writer was my student internship with the Common LISP project. It was also either the first- or second-most important part of my education as a software developer. Yes yes, the classroom stuff was important and the software-engineering project course was essential for putting the pieces together, but this was the real world and the real world is far less tidy than the classroom.

I was brought on to help write the documentation for this then-in-development language. (Other varieties of LISP existed; this was an attempt to unify them.) But unlike all previous tech-writing work, this was for a thing that did not fully exist yet, and I was part of the ongoing design process. I was there in the (virtual) room with the lead designers, Guy Steele, Dave Moon and dozens of others big and small, and if my contributions had merit it didn't matter that I was an undergraduate with no real experience. On the ARPAnet nobody knows you're a dog undergrad. Mind, being an undergraduate with no real experience, I didn't necessarily have a lot of design ideas to contribute, but even then I was pretty good at catching inconsistencies and asking key questions. I learned to write software-interface documentation there, but even more importantly I learned to be part of a real software-development process, to ask questions even if they might seem "stupid", to argue for technical positions and support those arguments, and to be a full member of a team.

When I graduated and met more of the real world I would learn that it usually doesn't work like this. In a lot of places, tech writers are not part of the development process (and may not even be in the development department) and the attitude is that they can come in after the big boys are done developing the product. Phooey on that; this important early experience taught me that it doesn't have to be that way, and I have held firm on this in every place I've ever worked. If I hadn't had this early lesson, I might well have fled the field.

It is also because of the Common LISP project that I went into programmer documentation (and expanded from there). Frankly, writing application documentation bores the heck out of me most of the time, but building software development kits is exciting and nourishes my inner geek. When I went to college I hadn't even heard of technical writing (I went there to do computer science), but I came out as a technically-proficient writer who knows the good that is possible. I have Common LISP to thank for that.

This parlor game comes via talvinamarich:

Comment to this post and I will pick seven things I would like you to talk about. They might make sense or be totally random. Then post that list, with your commentary, to your journal. Other people can get lists from you, and the meme merrily perpetuates itself.

He gave me: Lisp, On the Mark, Accessibility, Books, Role-Playing Games, Filk, Faroe Islands (one of these things is not like the others).

( Read more... )

Oh phooey -- we ate that yesterday, "possibly" exposing us to listeria monocytogenes (warning: I cringed while reading this). But kudos to Giant Eagle for calling and telling me; store affinity cards do bring privacy issues, but it's nice to know that the tracking of purchases can produce good outcomes too. Unless it were to make the news somewhat prominently, I might not have known otherwise. (Specifically, I might have heard "River Ranch" and not connected it to "Farmer's Market", the local branding.)

Tomorrow morning I'll ask what my doctor recommends.

Since last I wrote about Baldur a few things have happened. A week after that post we went to Toronto for Pesach and I boarded him at the vet's so they could monitor him. (This is a new service.) While he was there they did another X-ray and reported that the fluid he'd been retaining was nearly gone, so they had me reduce the dosage of the Furosemide (diuretic) and told me to bring him back in a month.

Last week was that visit, and he had a lot of fluid in his abdomen. (Not in his lungs -- just running around in there, um, somewhere.) The vet tried to get a sample with a needle but reached the "feisty" threshold before succeeding, so didn't. She recommended another ultrasound to see if there's been a change in his heart. That was today. She also had me raise the drug dosage (splitting the difference) a few days ago; they recommend checking bloodwork 3-4 days after doing that so we timed it for the ultrasound day. (This drug can rapidly cause kidney damage; that's what they're looking for.)

The ultrasound confirmed that he has congestive heart failure; at the previous ultrasound they used words like "possible" but not this time. His heart hasn't changed much since the last one, which is good; I guess they got a closer look this time. There is also still a fair bit of fluid, though it's down some, so I am to increase the dosage again (back to that original level) and bring him in for a quick blood test Monday morning. We will probably also increase the dosage on the Enalapril (the heart medicine), but my vet understands the value of isolating variables during testing so we'll do that after confirming that the other drug's dose is fine.

She also strongly recommended that I board him with them when I go to Israel this summer. I said my cat-sitter is excellent and diligent, thinking she was worried about him not getting all his meds or something, but she pointed out that if he's there I can authorize them to use their best judgement about any on-the-fly treatments. Good point. Being in a cage, even a nice large one, for a week and a half won't be much fun, but on the other hand he spends most of his time sleeping so maybe he doesn't care?

My vet is unsure about prognosis. We're pretty sure that he won't be going out to celebrate reaching drinking age in two years, but beyond that... At this point we need to get his heart problems under control, which risks kidney problems, which -- if they show up -- we'll need to do something to compensate for, and the dance goes on. I don't know what end-stage heart failure looks like, but I do know what kidney failure looks like and that's not fun, so let's hope he continues to tolerate the heart meds. (Today his BUN was 40, last week 37, normal is up to 36. Erik and Embla stayed around 60 for a year or two before going downhill. So I'm cautiously optimistic about the kidneys.)

His pulse, on the other hand, was 100 both this week and last. Normal for him is 160-200. That's kind of freaky.

On the bright side, a friend gave me some home-grown catnip today for him and I can report that he found his first sample quite satisfactory. :-)

A very helpful (yes, really!) technician at Verizon diagnosed our network problems as a flaky router, so he sent us a new one and we swapped it in today. The old router had two features that I found useful: I could name devices on the network, and the "my network" list showed me everything that had connected since the last router restart, not just the currently-connected devices. These, particularly in combination, were useful for monitoring my network. (Why yes, since I can be punished for anything done from my IP address even if I didn't do or authorize it, and since no security that is still usable is perfect, I do care.)

The new router lacks both of these features; it shows currently-connected devices by MAC address (and IP address), but short of my maintaining the name-MAC mappings externally, that's of limited utility. And it doesn't tell me if a neighbor found his way onto my network while I wasn't watching. Now my neighbors seem like decent folks, and in a different legal environment I'd rather be the sort of person who shares my spare bandwidth with anybody who needs it, but that's not the point.

Oh well. I guess I am now relying more strongly on decent neighbors and passwords, as I haven't found anything like router logs that tell me this stuff.

I know that some of my readers are pretty security-conscious. How do you handle this?

The Daf Yomi calendar says that today's daf is Meilah 25. Its absence from my English translation (Soncino) and other online copies I found was a complete mystery to me. (Had I been looking more carefully, I might have noticed the discrepancy in the header of this supposed Meilah 25.) So I prepared something else for this morning and then asked on Mi Yodeya, where I learned that the overseers of the Daf Yomi cycle decided to combine this tractate with some shorter items -- a couple pages of Kinim and then tractate Tamid, whose first page is 25b -- without necessarily changing the name. How odd.

So this week I offer a teaching from Pirkei Avot, which we read during the omer, the period from Pesach to Shavuot. Next week I expect to get back to the regular routine. This is one of my favorites:

Ben Zoma said: who is wise? He who learns from every person, as it is said: "from all who taught me have I gained understanding". Who is mighty? He who subdues his evil inclination, as it is said: "he that is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he that rules his spirit than he that takes a city". Who is rich? He who rejoices in his lot, as it is said: "when you eat of the labor of your hands happy shall you be". Who is honored? He who honors his fellow, as it is said: "for them that honor me I will honor". (Avot 4:1)

A mishna on today's daf discusses deriving benefit from items that were dedicated to the temple. (This is not the case of theft but of "borrowing" without permission.) Rabbi Akiva says that one is always liable for appropriation (so long as a minimum value was derived), but the sages rule that for an item that deteriorates with use, one is liable only after one has caused deterioration. For items that do not deteriorate, however, one is liable immediately. For example, if you derive benefit from a necklace, ring, or golden cup you are liable, but if you derive benefit from clothing or an axe you are liable only after you have caused wear and tear. (18a)

I read in the Jewish Chronicle last week that this weekend Rabbi Ethan Tucker from Mechon Hadar will be at Beth Shalom leading assorted programs. I know Mechon Hadar from Yeshivat Hadar, which has an enticing one-week summer program that I haven't made it to yet. (Maybe next year.) By all accounts these people "get" lay empowerment and community/chavurot and engagement, and I'd like to both experience more of that and learn more about how to make that happen. (In my case, within the context of my congregation.)

So anyway, I'm happy to learn that Rabbi Tucker will be visiting. I'll definitely go Friday night, and they're having assorted programs on Saturday afternoon, some of which I plan to go to. There's a brochure on Beth Shalom's site and everything is open to the public. Aside from that and the Chronicle article, I've seen zero publicity.

Maybe today we have Internet access for more than 15 minutes at a time? Let's find out.

(If I haven't replied to something you expected me to, that's why. New modem should arrive tomorrow. Astonishingly and much to their credit, Verizon tech support was helpful and quite competent in troubleshooting this. It's possible that the secret is to go down the "Mac" tree instead of the "Windows" tree, though I've been doing that for a few years and this is the best I've experienced.)

We went to see The Hunger Games this afternoon. I have read the first of the three books. I thought the movie was a good treatment of the book; they missed some opportunities but they added some nice bits too. (I don't think the rest of this post contains any spoilers that weren't in the trailer.)

The Rue plot in the book was very powerful, and I was disappointed that it was so highly abbreviated in the movie. I understand that a movie can't contain everything in the book and still be a civilized length, and they did a good job of trimming in general, but this one stood out as a misfire.

The book is written in the first person (first-person present tense, mostly, which is unconventional). This means that in the book you only see and know what the narrator knows. In the movie they showed some of what was going on "backstage" and I found those parts to be well-done, laying the groundwork for the political issues to come. They added rather than detracting -- not at all a safe bet when screenwriters decide to innovate.

Because of the POV, in the book the game-makers are largely invisible -- we see their work but don't see them. In the movie I thought the lead game-maker was particularly strong; seeing how what was going on in the arena affected him added a level of story not possible in the book. And oh, his final scene... nice touch.

A nit: I do wonder how Katniss was able to stay at full draw for so long, with a bow strong enough to kill a person, in that scene at the end. Especially given her state at that time. Just sayin'. (Also, what are the aerodynamic properties of silver arrows? The book referred to them as silver too, and it struck me as peculiar there too.)

The trailers I remember were:

• The Avengers: meh
• Spiderman: looked like it could be fun (but can wait for NetFlix)
• (something like) The House at the End of the Street: no (horror's not my thing)
• What to Expect When You're Expecting: looks very cheesy (that would be a no)
• some Twilight movie: no
• Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter: please make it stop!

I was pleased to read in today's local paper that, finally, there will be justice for Nikko the husky. One good thing came out of a sad incident, at least.

( possible trigger: child died, dog got blamed )

A nazarite takes a vow for a period of time and, at the end, brings offerings. The mishna teaches: if one set aside money for his nazarite offerings it cannot be used for other purposes, but the law of misappropriation does not apply. If he died first and the money was unspecified (that is, which coins were designated for which purpose) it goes to a special fund. If the money was specifically designated, then the following things happen to it: the money for a burnt-offering is used for a burnt-offering (which goes wholly to God); the money for a peace-offering is used for a peace-offering that must be eaten within a day; and the money for a sin-offering (which no longer applies) is cast into the Dead Sea (that is, the coins are destroyed). (11a)

Someone asked me this morning if any coins have been found in the Dead Sea. I have no idea. I wonder whether, at least for gold, anything would be left after all that time and considering the properties of that sea.

Edit: I just asked a related question about how this was managed over on Mi Yodeya (aka Jewish Life and Learning).

This week was my congregation's annual shabbaton. We take over a cabin in the "suburbs" of Zelienople and have a grand time. This year was the largest I've seen at 42 people, and all of them seemed to be engaged in it. It was great.

When nobody feels pressure (got to get upstairs to the bar mitzvah, got to beat the lunch guests home, whatever), we can relax and just take our time with services. I don't get that very often and I treasure it. We had kabbalat shabbat out on the porch in the fading sun (plus there were porch lights). Saturday morning after the service we had an energetic discussion of part of the parsha (Tazria [1]), interrupted only by our need to walk up to the main building for lunch (but it continued later in smaller pockets).

Speaking of which: ( Read more... )

Friday night we had a study session around the second chapter of Pirke Avot (teachings of the fathers, where a lot of the sayings we "all know" come from). We broke into pairs or trios to study for a while and then each group shared something it learned. We've used this study method before and I find it works well; it's harder to do in-depth study with 42 people all together, but by doing it this way I learned things both from my group and the larger group.

Saturday afternoon we tried something new. My rabbi asked a few of us to prepare chugim, short sessions to run concurrently, so people could learn what they want. I taught (well, lead a study of) a section of talmud -- how various rabbis concluded their individual prayer at the end of the t'filah. (B'rachot 16b-17a, for anyone following along at home.) I approached this from the prayer context, not the talmud context -- we have this fixed text that we say every service and then we're supposed to say our own prayer, but maybe not everybody is comfortable doing that. The idea was to present a range of things that are recorded in our tradition; maybe people would get some new ideas.

I had not realized, and did not think to ask at the beginning, that no one there other than me had actually studied any talmud before -- maybe they'd seen material that came from the talmud, but they'd never looked at a page of talmud before. I, not knowing this, gave only the scantest of introductions to talmud itself (here's what the full page looks like, here's where we are, here's an interlinear translation to follow 'cause nobody here including me is going to read the Aramaic straight from the page). When I learned at the end that this was new to everybody, part of me wondered if I should have given more of an intro -- but I think not, on reflection. I helped a group of people just dive in to something that many consider intimidating; I think that probably left them all feeling better, and more confident, than a "talmud 101 using this text as an example" class would have been. I am becoming a big fan of the "just do it" school of teaching.

( footnote )

Today's daf is Meilah 4, which is in the middle of a long discussion of the first mishna. Rather than trying to jump straight into 4, I'm going to start with an overview, with many thanks to meirbg for explaining this in dafyomi.

Meilah means misappropriation of Temple property for one's own benefit. For example, if one derives benefit from a burnt offering, which is wholly consumed on the altar, he is culpable. (There is a minimum value before this applies.) One who is guilty has to repay plus a fifth (as for other property transgressions), and also bring a guilt-offering if the act was unintentional.

The mishna begins by describing certain cases of performing the sacrificial ritual incorrectly, rendering the offering invalid. This kind of error is a case of misappropriation, for the animal can no longer be used for the purpose for which it was brought. So even priests with the best of intentions can transgress this if they're not careful. (2a)

Recently some local congregations have been banding together for yom tov services. Friday's service for the last day of Pesach was pretty unsatisfactory in a lot of ways, but in this post I'm going to write about just one practice, something I have seen in other congregations too and that needs to end.

Most blessings begin with a six-word formula, followed by the text that varies. The morning service contains a bunch of these, thanking God for making us free, lifting up the fallen, giving strength to the weary, and more. (There are 15 of these in a row.) The congregation says these together. In Friday's service, the leader decreed that the congregation would chant these in "Hebrish" -- first six words in Hebrew, then chanting the varying part in English.

I previously wrote about the horror that is chanted English prayer. This isn't that. This "Hebrish" practice, I've been told when I've asked, is motivated by a desire for inclusion: people don't know the Hebrew, the reasoning goes, so this makes prayer more accessible. Sounds admirable, right? But it's misguided and, dare I say, harmful. First off, the transliteration is right there in the siddur next to the Hebrew, precisely to make the Hebrew more accessible. But, more fundamentally, this practice serves to keep people down. How are they ever to learn the Hebrew if we never do it? Are we supposed to settle for the current state and never move past it? How would I have become proficient in the Hebrew prayers if, when I was trying to grow, my congregation had kept me on the English?

The Rambam (Maimonides) famously taught that the highest level of tzedakah (charity, loosely) is to help a poor person to get a job, rather than to give him money. Giving him money sustains him for a time; getting him a job helps him break out of the clutches of poverty (we hope). The Reform movement holds this up as a key value, even placing it in the section of the siddur where we study torah in the morning. Why, then, do we refuse to apply that same principle to those who are poor in knowledge? Why is it better to give them the handout of English prayer instead of helping them to pray in Hebrew?

In the past I have remained silent to avoid the appearance of challenging our leaders. I have tried and failed to persuade leaders who do this to reconsider. Friday, when they announced this and started into those prayers, I said to myself quietly "no more" and proceeded to chant the prayers in Hebrew. The long-time member of my congregation sitting next to me said "good for you!" and joined me. We were not disruptive, but I have high hopes that maybe, next time, he'll be sitting next to someone else and he too will say "no more" and forge ahead, and maybe someone sitting next to him will follow. And maybe, eventually, we'll be able to help people break out of the bonds of illiteracy, instead of continuing to keep them down by catering to their current weaknesses. We've just celebrated z'man cheruteinu, the season of our freedom, and it is time to apply that to our people now and not just looking back at Mitzrayim.

If reading the Hebrew text directly is too challenging for some, the transliteration is readily available. Or they could quietly read the English the way I quietly read the Hebrew. (I do that when I'm at services that are above my level, like last week at Village Shul.) But let's stop telling our congregants that they're too uneducated to handle the Hebrew; that only serves to reinforce the idea until they no longer want to try.

Courtesy of shalmestere:

The mishna teaches: if a person brings a suspensive guilt-offering (brought in a case where there is doubt about whether he sinned) and then learns that he did not sin, if the animal has not yet been slaughtered then Rabbi Meir says it can go out to pasture (that it, is returns to its unconcescrated state). The sages, however, say that it is put out to pasture until it acquires a blemish (making it unfit for the altar) and then it is sold, with the proceeds going to the temple. R. Eliezer says it is still offered, if not for this sin then for another. The g'mara tries to reconcile the positions of R. Meir and the rabbis, raising additional considerations. One is: was the man so troubled that his conscience compelled him to make a binding resolution? Another: did the doubt arise from witnesses who might turn out to be false, so the person himself was never unsure, only the community? These factors matter, the g'mara says. (23b mishna, 24a g'mara)

I wonder if R. Eliezer had young children when he taught this: ok, you didn't sin that sin, but surely you've done something you need to atone for!

We were in Toronto for the first days of Pesach. I had previously had an excellent experience at Beit HaMinyan (not just the one, but that's the one I wrote about), so I was looking forward to going there for Shabbat/Pesach morning. I checked their web site before leaving Pittsburgh to make sure they were in the same place; thus reassured, I went there Saturday morning to...an empty, locked building. They're very friendly and welcoming when they're there, but maybe not so great at updating their web site. Bummer. :-(

So I fell back to the Village Shul (Aish HaTorah), a place I'd been once before. This time, as last, I found them to be not too welcoming; this time I knew where to go in the building so the indifferent man standing at the entrance didn't hinder me, but nor did he respond to my greeting. At the kiddush (which was a standing-around affair this time, not a sit-down one), not a single person greeted me, even when I made eye contact. It can be hard for me to approach random people and start conversations; I greeted some and usually got responses but no one engaged. I don't know what (if anything) I was doing wrong; I think it was fairly obvious that I wasn't a regular, but I wasn't inappropriate in any way I could determine.

But all that said, I'm very glad I went for one reason: Tal.

Ok, I need to back up. T'filat Tal, aka the prayer for dew, is said exactly once during the year, on the morning of Pesach, in the musaf service. I had never heard it before. The Reform movement doesn't do musaf and didn't import that part into another part of the service (like is done with some other parts), and when we're in Toronto I don't always make it to Yom Tov services (but I insist on Shabbat). It's possible that I was at a Conservative service for Pesach once, and if so either they didn't do it or they didn't do anything special with it and I didn't notice.

So, this is either the first time I've encountered this prayer or the first time it registered. And it did in fact register. A resonant text (which I am unable to find online, help?), a beautiful and fitting melody (which I can't find a good version of online), and just the right amount of congregational engagement (a few words sung together at the end of each stanza) all came together into a heartfelt but not over-the-top prayer that felt entirely right to me. Wow.

And I think it needs all of those. As I said, the Reform movement doesn't do this text -- but let me predict how it would go down if we did. Because it's unfamiliar and people can't be assumed to be fluent, we would read (not sing) it, in English. Perhaps responsively, alternating stanzas. And it would fall completely flat, done that way. I'm not fluent and I'd never seen this text before either, but I listened to it in Hebrew while reading the English translation, and that worked. If I didn't need the translation then that'd be even better, but the text I read and the text I hear don't need to be the same language and that's just fine. Alas, mine seems to be a small-minority position in my movement, so I will probably not get the opportunity to experience this prayer in that setting, which makes me sad.

( some service anthropology )

The mishna on today's daf discusses some cases of doubtful transgressions and brings several examples. The first set of examples is: if one isn't sure if he ate forbidden fat, or if he is sure he did but isn't sure if he ate enough to be liable, or if there was before him forbidden fat and permitted fat and he ate one but doesn't know which is which -- in all these cases he is liable for a guilt-offering because of the doubt. The g'mara spends the next two pages discussing this and casting doubt on the case of one piece of fat of unknown status. Another example where he owes a guilt-offering is if he did work and isn't sure if it was Shabbat at the time or a weekday. (17a-b)

I had thought that this mishna would shed light on the case where one eats food that, it turns out, wasn't kosher, but it doesn't seem to be going in that direction.

Dear Verizon,

Thank you for the phone message alerting me to the impending expiration of the credit card I have on file with you. Unfortunately, the URL you gave in the phone message does not exist, and when I searched your site for "pay" and "credit card" I did not find the page (that you assured me exists) where I could update this information. Your URL contained "pay online", so I had high hopes for "pay".

So then I tried your "contact us" link, which tried mightily to direct me to chat, forums, help, and all manner of unsatisfactory-to-me (but easy-for-you) destinations. (Let's hear it for crowd-sourced support, eh?) When I reached the "send email" option I found a form (not an email address) that, among things, asked for my name, phone number, and email address (twice). It also asked for an account number, but since you bill my credit card directly I've never seen a paper bill and have no idea what that number is -- so that "sample bill" image didn't help. Your form required that I type something there and wouldn't let me type letters, so my plan to signal this with "unknown" was foiled. It wouldn't accept "?" either.

So, I'm sorry that my "account number" of 0 will slow you down, but you left me no choice. I hope you can still manage to respond to me, as otherwise we'll have to wait for Visa to decline a payment to you. On the plus side, I'll bet that will get you to talk to me.

By the way, I'd be happy to refer you to web-site developers who could greatly improve the usability of your site for a small investment.

Oh, also, I'm still waiting for the opportunity to spend more money with you each month for FiOS. Surely my neighborhood full of geeks, university folks, and the like would make it profitable for you to run fiber over here. Practically everybody else in the east end seems to have it...

Shefa Gold, a prominent rabbi in the Renewal movement, was in Pittsburgh this weekend. I went to the Shabbat morning service that she led. It was...different.

I went to the Renewal movement's national kallah a few years ago, and most of what I know about their ideas and worship styles comes from that. (Much of the rest comes from reading the Velveteen Rabbi's blog.) At the kallah I encountered a lot of worship motifs that I think of as "new-age", such as drumming, movement/dance, yoga, meditation, and an abundance of creative English readings displacing set liturgy. But I also encountered well-done music that enhanced worship, and a focus on core kavannot (intentions) behind the prayers. At the time I described the kallah as a whole, including both worship and learning, as "decent with a high standard deviation".

So with some trepidation, and a resolve to leave if necessary, I went to the service. There were a couple good ideas there, but also some things that turned me off, so I'm glad this was a one-shot. I didn't walk out, but nor would I go again.

I'm not going to give a detailed chronology, but I have some observations of things that stood out:

( Read more... )

Baldur got another X-ray and an ultrasound today. (We were hoping the traveling ultrasound docs would be available and they were. I had to drop him off for the X-ray in any case.) The pleural effusion is much reduced and they told me to cut the dose of the medicine he's taking for that. The ultrasound told them that his mitral valve is leaking; this is caused by old age but the hyperthyroidism isn't helping. So they said to boost the thyroid medicine to a rate that I understand to be somewhat astonishing (20mg/day of Methimazole, up from a high 15). I asked if I should spread that out (giving it to him three times a day instead of twice); they said no, increase each dose.

Last night and this morning he lapped up tuna juice but didn't eat any solids. They reported that he ate "a couple bites" of canned food while there today. When I got home I gave him some gravy-laden food and he showed actual interest for the first time this week, so I take that as a good sign.