The Best Folding Chair in the Western World: A. Fritz & Company

Growing up, my grandparents had these folding chairs:

After my grandparents passed away, my parents inherited them.

Talk about fantastic mid-century design!

When I was single and living on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, I learned that my neighbors had the very same chairs.
When I got married, I learned that my in-laws had the very same chairs.
They used them as their dining room chairs until they could afford real furniture.
When I had dinner at our friends' houses, I learned that they had the very same chairs.
People had them in different colors.
People had them in upholstery to coordinate with their dining room chair fabric.

Mostly, they were all well-worn, stained velvet gold or rust colored chairs.

But everyone agreed:  These are The Best Folding Chairs.  Ever.

And you can't get them at IKEA, Crate & Barrel, or any other big box store.
They are local and made by a family-owned business in Long Island City, New York.

Last Sukkot we needed more folding chairs.
I looked up the name of the company on the bottom of the chair.
I had no idea if they still existed.
The story was that my Aunt Henny and Uncle Herman were friends were the owners of the company. Sounds oddly familiar to my family's Joyva story.

A. Fritz is still around, alive and kicking.
They have no web site to speak of.
You have to pay by check:  they don't take credit cards.
The woman on the phone is very nice.

Same tag on our new chairs as the ones we have that were purchased in the 1960s

Except now they have colors and fabrics that speak to a more contemporary taste.

Now, this is REALLY mid-century design.  Would Marcel Breuer have approved?  Eh...it still does have upholstery, which he was not at all into with his infamous Wassily Chair.  But it *is* minimal... 

Who can't love a chair that folds up so trim and slim?

Tonight I was at a melave malka (post-Shabbat music gathering) at my friend Holly's house.  I noticed she had these exact same chairs.  She said all of her Philadelphia friends have them.  I said many of my New York friends have them.

It's got to be a Jewish world thing.

I wonder if folks out in Los Angeles have 'em?

Oh, and they are so affordable.  Like, no more than $150 for 4 chairs.  And they'll last you for a lifetime.  And then your children and grandchildren will enjoy and be inspired to blog about them.

A. Fritz Chair
37-28 9th Street
Long Island City, NY
718-361-0499
checks only
They will send the chairs UPS
no web site
under the radar, but likely you know these chairs

The Big O...TGIF

You might think that because I wear skirts, have a bearded husband, light candles on Friday night, go to shul (synagogue) regularly, eat kosher food, and have boys who wear tzitzit (ritual fringes) that I am an Orthodox Jew.

Oh no.  Not the Big O again.

Truth be told, I do not like the label Orthodox.

My husband Stango, ever brimming with his sense of humor, told me that I am Ultra UnOrthodox.   And this is coming from a guy who, while striving to fulfill the taryag mitzvot (613 commandments of the Torah), no longer even considers himself Post-NeoChassidish.  Yes, he would have been a great writer at the Lampoon if he only applied after the first rejection, which he said is par for the course.

Judging me from the outside people say that I am Orthodox.  Sorry, folks, not me.  I do not even consider myself Open Orthodox, a term coined by Rav Avi Weiss, a rabbi, leader and spiritual activist whom I respect tremendously.

Which leads me to The Jew in the City's Open Letter to Jerry Seinfeld, where its creator Allison writes that Jerry should take a look at Orthodox Judaism as a way to fill his secular void.  I hear her, I really do.  And I  agree with her sentiments.  But, my personal preference is to not use The Big O.  How about Traditional Judaism?  And yet, I realize that this might be misleading.   After all, Camp Ramah is traditional in its Judaism, but it is not Orthodox.  How about Torah Judaism?  Or, just Judaism?  Maybe a label is unavoidable and my argument holds no water.  Remember, I only worked in legal research for 5 years.  I never went to law school.

Once you get past the candles, challah, and wine it is all the same traditions.  Do we really need the word Orthodox to get there?  Can't we just celebrate Shabbat Across America this March 2, 2012 by turning Friday night into Shabbat without relying on the big O?

Maybe Allison can start with teaching Jerry about the concept of mezonot (Jewish blessing on cakes, cookies) before he imbibes in racial harmony through the black and white.






One thing is for sure:  I bet that Jessica Seinfeld isn't stressing out right now that she is writing on her blog at 3:15 on a Friday afternoon instead of getting ready for Shabbat.

A gut Shabbes to the Ganse Mishpucha!
(Have a great Sabbath to the Whole Phamily)


(and if you don't relate to that...TGIF!)


But lighting Shabbat candles and having wine and challah would make it all the more better...who knows, maybe then you will learn about the double mitzvah.  Big O, now we're talkin'!

I'm Still Alive, She's Not Gone, and It's Good to Smile, Smile, Smile

This week has had its share of daily grind frustrations with society but for reasons unknown to me Pearl Jam's "Alive" spoke to me and become somewhat of a mantra when I had to deal with them.



I didn't know what the song was about until I read this lyrics this morning (references to a boy, presumably Eddie Vedder, Pearl Jam's lead, who meets his birth father late in life and then he passes away shortly thereafter), but I kept repeating that refrain "Oh, I'm still alive," and reminded myself of all those people who turn lemons into lemonade and maintain a sunny disposition.  No matter how many negative interactions I had with The Establishment (i.e. the medical world) this week, I reminded myself that it isn't really that big of a deal in the end.  Gotta count your blessings and be happy that we have our health and family, and really in the end that is all that matters.  Oh, yeah and of course being educated consumers and advocates for ourselves.

My friend Limor is a huge Pearl Jam fan.  When I posted about how ukeleles have made a comeback, she sent me a link to an Eddie uke performance.  I love Limor, not just because she is sweet.  Not just because her name appears in a song by my favorite band.  Not just because she has a husband who has the same first name as mine (and who I have known since he was a little boy, also a great guy).  Not just because she is into healthy eating and yoga.  Not just because she has great style.  She is also a jeweler.  She is my sister's jeweler.  She is my jeweler.  More on that another time...

When there's nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile (lyric reference to song in video below), that ain't so bad.  The crowd surfing in Pearl Jam's video is a bit high energy for me, but I see where Limor is coming from.  I think I will listen to more Pearl Jam.

Where Are You From? Oh Canada, My Home and Native Land...

My Grandpa Archie Medjuck was born and raised on Nova Scotia (that is a province of Canada for all of us still-in-the-dark United States residents).  Cape Breton to be specific.  He was born in a little town called Calendonia and grew up in the nearby mining town of Glace Bay.

Grandma Mayme and Grandpa Archie Medjuck with me as a baby

If you didn't know me (well, Molly as a middle name isn't overtly Semitic), ya'd think we were Scottish and our elder male members wore kilts on dressy occassions.  And drank a lot.  No such luck:  We were just like any other Jews at the turn of the last century hailing from the alter heim looking for the goldene medina.  My grandpa got drunk on soda pop.

Perhaps Grandpa Archie didn't find gold in the monetary sense, but he definitely found it in his sense of pride in his family and upbringing.  He loved telling stories about Cape Breton, and I think he always longed to live out his years there.  He had what sounds like a lovely childhood and attended Dalhousie University in "the big city" Halifax, and for reasons unclear to me dropped out very close to the completion of his degree to return to Cape Breton and work in his family's general store.

If you look very carefully, you can see my reflection in this photo, a framed receipt from the store that hangs in our home.  Thanks, Mom, for this great family artifact.

So proud of his Nova Scotian upbringing was Grandpa Archie that he continued to have mid-afternoon tea with milk and kippered snacks, always with his yarmulke perched atop his head.  Never mind the crumbs he left behind:  his mother, Rochel Malke, for whom I am named and was known to be a true aishet chayil (a kind, sweet woman), likely cleaned up behind him and never gave him a problem.  I imagine I could learn a lesson or two from her in dealing, with an angelic touch, with the frustrations created by gender difference conflict.  Men can be slobs, disorganized and absent-minded...no biggie!

My brother, Uncle Goalie.  That hat would be a total Ebay score today!

My mother has a book entitled Cape Breton Memories in Verse which I believe my grandfather's brother Sol gave to him, as my mother said he probably knew how much his brother would have loved it once he moved away from Nova Scotia when his youngest daughter was a 2 year old to Syracuse, New York.  I managed to get a copy of this small pamphlet from our academic interlibrary loan system. I have been wanting for years to share this poem and now I finally have a forum.

Where Are you From?

by Winnifred Mitchell Protheroe

I have never met a person yet

Who did not ask of me,

"Where are you from?" then stare,

With careful scrutiny.

I have always thought it odd, that they

Such time, and pains should take

To ferret out the very spot!

What difference does it make?

When first you cross the border

You are a diplomat.

You say, "Oh, I'm from Canada."

And let it go at that.

But here, in our own country

The province folks must know;

And you feel that you must change your style

As further on you go.

For instance, in New Brunswick,

You may answer with a smile;

"My home," you say with  heartfelt pride,

"Is dear old Cape Breton Isle."

Then, when you reach Ontario,

More carefully you choose;

It's "I'm from Nova Scotia" then

As you would not dare to confuse

Worst of all are the cities

Out on the great Pacific;

Where you feel compelled to hum and haw

'Cause you can't be too specific.

The inevitable question comes,

And, like a cowering beast,

You get it over quickly with,

"Me?...I'm from the East."

You want to tell folks where you are from,

But you think that they might frown

As soon as they hear that you were born

In a smoky, mining town.

So, you fidget and fumble and shrink away

And your brain begins to snap.

You wish that you could do something great

To put your old town on the map.

Oh but it's good to be home again.

Where people do not scorn;

Where folks don't make a secret of

The place where they were born.

When someone asks the question now,

I can look him in the eye

And proudly say "I'm from the Bay.

Where are you from, B'y?'

Now I can return the book to the library tomorrow!


n.b.:  Yes, I transcribed that entire poem, complete with its colloquial punctuation, all on my own.  Giving myself a nice ole' pat-on-the-back.

River Waters - Mei Nahar - Idan Raichel Project

Last summer, while working at Ramah Day Camp in Nyack, I learned this beautiful Israeli song as part of the staff component to the end-of-month song performance zimriyah.  As you might know, I love jam bands, but I also love good music in general, and Idan Raichel is a phenomenal superstar Israeli musician known for his fusion of Ethiopian and Middle Eastern music, electronics, and traditional Hebrew texts.

I happen to think his dreads are quite attractive, as well.





Music director extraordinairre Daniel  Henkin provided us with the sheet music and Hebrew lyrics.   Here are the lyrics only:

In the meantime, this is proof that working at a wonderful institution filled with good music ruach, good leadership, and energetic Israeli staff can sustain you through the entire year.

Turns out the staff didn't even end up performing the song due to the venue's excessive heat!   The camp has stated it will longer hold its zimriyah in the Nyack High School Gym.

Thank God:  I hadn't shvitzed like that in years!

Shalom Kids Yoga

You may know by now how much I respect Tara Stiles and her teachings and practices of Yoga.  But she teaches for adults.  What about the kinderlach (children)?

Shalom Kids Yoga logo

My friend Jory Stillman has recently launched, in New York City and New Jersey, Shalom Kids Yoga.  SKY teaches unique Yoga classes with the Jewish community in mind.   What a great idea.

Knowing how amazing Jory is, I am sure her program is set for success.  Hatzlacha raba Jory!  If we lived nearby, we would surely try them out!  (Oh, and if my children were open to yoga, which for whatever reason lately they are adverse).

Jory Stillman, photo courtesy of shalomkidsyoga.com

Both Tara and Jory are graduates of Kripalu.  That says a lot to me.

Check out these classes for your children!

Beautiful Land, Beautiful Food, Beautiful Vision

Last night Stango and I attended Taste of Hazon:  A Culinary Celebration of Tu B'Shvat.  I already blogged about this event as I looked forward to the night.  Fully impressed, this was my first Hazon event.   And I only hope there will be more in my future!

At this benefit for Hazon, founder Nigel Savage stated that Hazon is about taking Jewish tradition seriously and eating Jewishly in the 21st century.  It is both about the past and the future. Hazon means vision, which is a vision the organization itself embodies.  

Hazon "creates healthier and more sustainable communities in the Jewish world and beyond."  The group runs environmental bike rides in many cities (Bay Area friends:  the California Ride is coming up on May 10-13).  They sponsor CSAs across the country.   Along with The Jewish Daily Forward, they co-sponsor the blog The Jew and the Carrot, covering food issues as they relate to the Jewish world.  They have a food conference in December, complete with composting, pickling, and other sustainability and food workshops.

Back to the event...

The food:  superb.  My menu included smoked duck carpaccio with passion fruit, barley soup with fenugreek and mushrooms, and braised short rib of beef with pomegranate and figs.

The crowd:  a diverse group of Jews of all stripes and polka dots, and even some non-Jews, too, including acclaimed Philadelphia chefs Patrick Feury, Terence Feury, Susanna Foo, Jean-Marie Lacroix and Chris Scarduzio.

The message:  Create sustainable communities inspired by Judaism.

The speakers:  Manageable since we were able to pick at the edible centerpiece featured below.

Edible centerpiece at Taste of Hazon

Chana Rothman performed "We Shall Not be Moved," which is one of Stango's favorites. Chana is also a Philadelphian and therefore I hope I will get to hear her perform another time in the near future!

Here is the title song of Chana's newest CD.  Though not a Tu B'Shvat song per se, I pointed out to Chana (naturally, the rock star in me of course will seek out the musician after the show if possible) that it has a clear message for Tu B'Shvat.

Listen carefully and you will see why:

And here is the studio recording of Beautiful Land, which has more of the African beat, which is simply so lovely and speaks towards unity and world peace.


Thoughts from benefit honoree Mark Dornstreich, proprietor of Branch Creek Farm and a 1970s pioneer in Pennsylvania in organic farming included the following inspiration:

"Sweat.  Art.  Food.  Family.  Sharing.  Bonding and the continuity of your life's work and the people that are part of your being.:





At the end of the evening, Savage quoted the late Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach:

"I bless you and me and all of us."

Shtuff Ragers Say...Molly is My Middle Name (Ain't That the Truth)!

Already old hat, the genre of "Sh!t (fill in the name of some ethnic-social group) Say" has certainly been done.

I post "Shtuff Ragers Say" with full disclosure/warning that it is definitely filled with a lot of shtuss and chazarai (Yiddish words for, basically, garbage)





I recently posted my own $.02 about the use of the word rage, and now along comes this YouTube.  As I mentioned there, I like it when rage is used in a positive way.

Just a few seconds into watching that brings me to one of the things I like least about the music scene and popular culture in general:

The Excessive Use of Foul Language.

I really didn't want to go there on this blog, as I try to focus on the positive, but it is there.

In my adult life, I have made the conscious effort to limit the use of cursing.
It is just plain ugly and only brings out negativity.
A little bit, ok, yeah. A lot?  Nah.  No, nope no siree.
Why do they go there so frequently?  Find the light, folks!

I had the opportunity a few years ago to be on the set of the film Going the Distance, starring Drew Barrymore and Christina Applegate.  What a thrill to be among the cast and crew.  And yet, when I saw the film on screen, I was disappointed to hear so much cursing.  It didn't really help the movie, in my opinion.

Nanette Burstein, you were the director.  I think you should have toned it down.  Justin Long just didn't do much for himself with his excessive cursing.  My own humble opinion.

But, thanks for letting us borrow your chair.  It was SUCH a thrill being on this set two summers ago.

Fast forward about 20 years, and these boys and girls in the Ragers video will be talking about, instead of Pokeballs and Hello Kittys, the Louis Vuittons.

The Almond Tree is Blooming

The Jewish birthday of the trees is nearly here!

Here are Stango and Concealed Light from a few weeks ago.

Oprah and Hasidic Jews in Brooklyn

Honestly, we haven't watched Oprah in years, but this is looking interesting...


 

Happy Birthday, Bob Marley and Tong Yuen

Not only are we busy getting ready for Tu B'Shvat and celebrating Chinese Lantern festival with tong yuen which are rice balls (recipe to follow), but thank you to all of my Facebook friends for alerting me to the fact that today is Bob Marley's birthday.

My high school friend Mike posted a lovely rendition of "Lively Up Yourself," from 6/13/80

As you know I love numerical synchronicity.  When I saw the date of this YouTube, I livened up myself!

6/13 or, 613 is a significant number in Judaism.  As you know, I am Jewish and I live a Jewish life, so when I see that number of course I make the connection.  I have mentioned how I love when I go to Madison Square Garden, especially to see my favorite band, I view the jersey hanging high above for "Horowitz" with the number 613.

613 refers to the total number of mitzvot or commandments in the Torah.


Don't know if my friend Mike looked at that date or realized, but I think it's pretty cool.

So, there, I have linked Rastafarians with Jews.  Not such a huge stretch.

Tong Yuen

family recipe from my friend Hannah

Serves 2

1 tsp oil

2/3 c glutinous rice flour (use up what’s left from making nian gao)

Cold water

Roasted, crushed peanuts

Sugar

Add water gradually to the rice flour and mix by hand until melded.  Shape into bite-sized balls.

Boil in water until they float to the top.  Cool before sampling!  Serve, sprinkled with peanuts and sugar.

In Through the Back Door? Out Through the In Door?

I've said it before and I'll say it again:

I love spin class, and one day when I grow up and become a spin instructor, I will pump out the jam band tunes (shorter jams, under 7 minutes) because they are the most rockin' out there.

Boy did I ever love that Ferris commercial last night.





 You are speaking right to me, Matthew Broderick! Actually I really love you here, too:


 



 Which leads me to Zeppelin. In Through the Out Door...


Would that fly in spin class? Me thinks yes.


Oh, yeah, and the password for the back door?  Do I really need to spell it out for you?

J-O-S-H-U-A   (I loved the intonation of Ally Sheedy's voice as she said it in "War Games")

How many Joshuas do you know?

I can count many.  Many, many, many.  And I love them all.

Lantern Festival: Happy Chinese New Year Today!!!

The Year of the Dragon is upon us, and today is the date for Chinese Lantern Festival.

Last week we went to our local Chinatown (oh, how so very different than New York's various Chinatowns, whether on the Lower East Side or in Sunset Park!), and we sought out Chinese New Year's greeting card red envelopes used for money gifts for children (the Chinese do gelt in their own way).

Here is one that we got, in a multipack of other licensed characters:

Stango didn't give me $ in this, but instead he wrote a love note.  I know, I know, wrong holiday...but next year, when we know better, we will do it right.  And since we don't celebrate the holiday that is on February 14th, this was a good time to jump the gun.

My friend the Nunever consulted with his friend, who is Chinese, and I received  the following quite lovely translation and interpretation:

"The top line means be auspicious and wishful, and bottom is happy new year.  That's very good because it's integration of Chinese tradition and American culture.  Localization always means to me the symbol of being rooted, accepted, united and harmony.  We see peace as well from those."

And that is what the Whole Phamily is about.

Of course, we were eating Chinese food when we gave the cards.

We are Jewish, after all.




(What I REALLY want is to make my friend Marci's "Chinese New Year's Cookies" which are so deliciosu and not at all Chinese but they are made with lo mein noodles, butterscotch chips, peanuts, chocolate chips, and it can all be varied.  Marci, would you post the recipe?!?!)

And It's the Ocean That's Flowing in Our Veins

Mother Earth is an image that I simply love.

Don't so many of us?

Naturally, I am a mother and therefore I relate to the whole mother imagery.

But I love nature, and this week is Tu B'Shvat, which is the Jewish birthday of the trees, and so I am thinking about Mother Earth a little bit more these days.  I love this holiday since it is all about nature and trees and Israel.  All things I love.

I also love the children's book The Story of the Root Children, which is a lovely story written by Sibylle von Olfers,  about 100 years ago.  It has a lot of Mother Earth imagery in it.  It is the type of book that Waldorf families read.  We aren't a Waldorf family, but we do like homemade toys!

you can buy this at Amazon.com.  No, I get no compensation for providing you that link.  Am I too nice?

Speaking of Mother Earth imagery, I simply love the album art from the Grateful Dead's sixth studio album, Wake of the Flood.

Talk about a very in-shape Mother Earth!  Look at those well-sculpted arms.  Don't think my own mother would be as jazzed about this album cover as me.  Oh well, variety is the spice of life, as they say.

Now, getting back to the title of my blog post.

You see the ocean that is flowing in her veins in this album cover art?

If you don't, maybe you want to at least listen to the song that my friend The Nunever reminded me of this morning, and how its lyrics have great depth and connection and real meaning and all that.