May Day is Lei Day with Mom

My mom arrived in Hawaii on May Day which in Hawaii is Lei Day. Lei Day began in 1928 when writer and poet Don Blanding suggested in a local paper that there should be a holiday that celebrate the Hawaiian custom of making and wearing lei. Shortly afterwards, writer Grace Tower Warren thought that the holiday should be May 1 on May Day. She coined the phrase, "May Day is Lei Day." In 1929, Lei Day was made an official holiday in the then territory, which is a tradition which was interrupted only during the years of World War II, and which continues today.



Like the first Lei Day everyone in Honolulu was encouraged to wear lei. Festivities were held in Kapiolani park with hula, music, lei making demonstrations and exhibits and lei making contests. Each of the islands has it own colors and flowers that represent it.

Fresh off the plane I took my Mom to Queen Kapioani park where we watched hula and listened to Hawaiian music. We then strolled through the booths and saw all of the lei that were entered into the competition. There were many different categories. We must have seen 200 leis in all. Of course, my mom had two leis that I picked up to welcome her and I was wearing one too. My lei was made of these orange seed pods that were about the size of golf balls. Several people informed me not to eat them because they were poisonous and that I may break out in a rash on my neck where they touched my skin. Luckily that did not happen.

Later we met up with Brian and with our friend Kiana. Kiana's girl friend Amy was in town. We were all going to the Lei day concert at the Waikiki shell. Kiana's parents made an incredible picnic for us all. The music was great. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood and the true aloha spirit seemed to be moving through the crowd. The light show on the stage was great too.

Mom was a trooper though we left at intermission because she was nearly falling asleep. What a way to see Hawaii for the first time.

The Rabbi's Flock Part 2 (Fish and Fairies)

One of my favorite sites to see on the boat is what appears to be a small flock of birds at high speeds just over the waves. It gets me everytime. I think birds first and then I realize now that they aren't birds; they are flying fish. There are large flying fish that seem to be a foot or so long that fly solo. Those I know are fish, but these little guys look like a flock of birds in a migrating pattern, but instead of a flock they are indeed a school. While others are impressed by the mammoth sea turtles whose heads bob in the waters of the Waianae coast, these little guys' aerodynamic skills are second only to the spinner dolphins on the same coast. While I have seen these guys in the spring, scientists say that Hawaiian coastal waters have more flying fish in the summer as they migrate here during the warm months. While there are 7 different types of flying fish here--most of them are in the mackerel family. Ok, I know you thought it so I might as well as say it: HOLY MACKEREL!

=====================================================================================

There are many seabirds on the Western Coast. In Decemeber, I hiked the western edge where there are endangered albatross nesting grounds. The albatross have an interesting protector--the local population. Many people don't hike this area because where you have to park to access the trail is littered with automobile glass. When I pulled up in Brian's car, I was nervous to leave it since every single spot had green window glass. I turned around and parked quite aways back where there were people on the beach and hiked the extra mile or so to avoid getting a window shattered.

Out of all the sea birds, the Fairy Tern-- one good tern deserves another?-- is the local favorite. Since I have been here the mayor of Honolulu has named the Fairy Tern the official bird of the city. He points out that it symbolically represents some important things about the city. It is both a land and see bird representing the city's commitment to the ocean and the land. It can be found throughout Honolulu high in the trees sitting on its nestless egg that they rest in crooks of trees and wedges on branches. It is a threatened species; thus signifying Hawaii's fragile unique ecosystem.

The white tern is indigenous to Hawaii and a threatened species that is found throughout the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands. It is the only seabird that nests in urban Honolulu.

It even has meaning in Polynesian mythology "This bird has been a traditional ... way finder and guide for our Polynesian forefather. The Polynesian Voyaging Society Web site claims mariners use seabirds like the white tern to find land.

A bird that can point the way--and a fairy at that!

====================================================================================

My last comment about birds is that Hawaii is delightfully riddled with roosters--wild roosters. I can say delightfully now since in urban Waikiki there are no roosters crowing, but when Brian lived in the more suburban Kalihi valley there were dozens of roosters by the stream that would crow at all hours not to be undone by the ducks who would cause a quacking din at 3 or 4 in the morning. That said I have seen some of the most beautiful roosters running around on trails, in state landmarks, on beaches and all over the island of Kauai. I feel a kinship with these animals, perhaps because of their loyal, protective and territorial nature, but more likely because I was born in the year of the rooster.

Just the other day, I saw two children gleefully chasing a rooster around and around. On the downside, there is cockfighting here on the islands. As I may have written about, when driving across country in Texas I came across the Aloha gym so I decided to stop and work out. Sure enough, it was owned and run by a Hawaiian family who had essentially won the money to open the gym from a very lucrative cockfight.

More majestic, but less prolific are the peacocks that are also in random places around the island. Seeing their dazzling display of feathers has brought back the childhood memories of amazement that these birds inspire. Pretty incredible.

The Rabbi's Flock Part 1

A DOVE BY ANY OTHER NAME WOULD BE A PIGEON

When I went to San Francisco earlier this year, I met Brian's friends Helisa and her sister Debra-- both Jewish lesbians. One thing Brian told me about them is that growing up they used to make up songs to keep them occupied. One of his favorites was their ditty about pigeons:

Pigeons, they know what to do
Pigeons, they fly
Pigeons, they eat lots of food
Pigeons, they ain't shy

We began to sing this too and then added some new lyrics:

Pigeons, they know what to do
Pigeons, they poop
Pigeons, they eat lots of food
Pigeons, throw you for a loop

This song has become even more meaningful after our daily walks to the gym because we pass this unassuming duplex with a small fenced in yard. Their is one large tree in her yard, but little grass. On any given day at any given hour their are at least 40 pigeons hanging around on the roof, in the yard on the ground or in the tree. Often there are two cats lounging on the steps or in a nearby bush. One can only imagine what they are plotting. Less pleasant is the copious amounts of pigeon poop that covers the area.

Brian explained there is a woman who lives in the house that feeds the pigeons daily. I wanted to see this sight, but Brian didn't know when the feeding ritual happens, just that she was known in the neighborhood and a nuisance to some of her neighbors. Walking by at various times did not yield anything.

Until one early evening, I had just picked Brian up for work. He commented on the shirt I was wearing. It was one that I had bought in Jerusalem on pilgrimage. In fact, it was a shirt that fostered plenty of interesting conversation earlier that day. In Waimanalo, when I finished at the ranch I stopped at a local art gallery. This woman behind the counter asked what my shirt meant. I told her it said Peace in Hebrew, Arabic, and of course English. I explained I got it on a trip that fostered understanding between Muslims, Christians and Jews. "Christians and Muslims? Why do we need to understand them? All they want is war and killing." I played dumb and asked, "Who? The Christians or the Muslims?"

Indignant,she shook her head, her blond curls bounced and her wrinkled face scrunched up further,"The Muslims, of course." I explained that we all have misunderstandings and that if we really want to end war and killing, we have to learn about each other and make connections. This 5 second simplistic explanation did not mollify her. She squinted at me and said, "Well, which one are you?" "Jewish." "Well, at least that means you are one of God's chosen people. Jesus was a Jew, you know." I resisted the temptation to say, "Who?" I just nodded wanting to leave. "My son is a pastor and he says the Jews are blessed, but we are waiting for them to accept the Truth." I smiled and knowing that nothing positive was going to be accomplished, I wished her well and left.

On my way back into Honolulu, I stopped at Barnes and Noble to buy a controversial novel called My Holocaust by Tova Reich. She pokes fun at victim culture and those who are in the Holocaust "business". It is a scathing satire that may irk many fellow Jews, so far it is good, but not excellent. Anyways, when I was making my purchase, a Chinese woman behind the counter smiled wide and said, "Shalom! I love Jewish people. Are you Jewish?" "Yes!" "Well, do you go to Shabbat?" I paused wondering how much to say and she took the pause as a no. "Oh, you should try shabbat it is so much fun." I told her I was a rabbi and she said that I must meet her pastor at the synagogue she goes to, "Daniel Yeshua somethingorother". Yeshua, huh. Before I could ask her, she beat me to it. "Do you believe in the Messiah?" "Yes, but probably not the same one. I assume you go to a Messianic synagogue." She nodded and began to invite me. I thanked her and declined. It was hard to be annoyed with her as she was very sweet and well meaning.

So when Brian commented on liking the shirt, I joked that I would never wear it again. But I kept in on for an evening run down Waikiki beach. Out of breath, and slowed to a walk three blocks from the apartment, there she was coming into the yard with 5 loaves of bread and a big bag of crumbs. I looked up and there was a sea of white. At least 500 pigeons surrounded the house. As she tossed the pieces of bread, there was a fluttering of mostly white wings. I have never seen anything like this. Even in the center of Venice, where the pigeons are infamous did not compare to seeing so many in such a small space. I watched in awe as did the cats.

I stood still close to the fence. A man walked by and remarked to his wife just in earshot, "Too bad we don't have our camera. That guy was wearing a peace shirt in the midst of the fluttering of all those doves. Pretty amazing."

Maybe I will wear it again.

Rabbi finds lost tribe?

As I was exploring the Volunteer Hawaii website, I came across a request for volunteers to help with a communal Honolulu pet blessing day in June. Sounded fun and up my alley and there was no indication of any particular faith so I responded to the post. A wonderful woman named Irene wrote me back.

She explained that the pet blessing was going to be held by the Shinto community at one of the Shinto temples. Since I wrote her from my rabbijosh email address, she asked if I was a rabbi.

When I confirmed this, she invited me to consider being one of the blessers with the Shinto priests provided I was comfortable wearing traditional Japanese robes that they would allow me to loan. Costumes?! Pets?! I replied, "I am in."

She then invited me to come to their Spring Thanksgiving Festival which was sooner. She also indicated that she had many Jewish friends with whom she worked and often went to seder. In fact, she said some scholars pose the theory that the originators of Shintoism were in fact, a lost tribe of Israel as there are many commonalities.

I do not know much about Shintoism, though up until recently it was the national religion of Japan. Though many people, Japanese included do not consider it a religion, but more of a cultural expression or philosophy. Some see it as pagan because like other indigenous faiths, it recognizes God's presence in all things--but it seems to me to be like Reconstructionism where it recognizes that God's presence works through nature.

The ceremony was very intricate. The sanctuary was small but exquisite in a elevated but simplistic way. The priests' robes were beautiful and very colorful. (I am hoping for purple or robin's egg blue.) Afterwards, we were invited to a feast where we listened to some traditional Japanese music, watched Japanese dance, and saw karate demonstrations. Brian was a great sport and came with me to the celebration. We even were in the group picture.

Irene was the consummate hostess; her husband was one of the priests. We didn't get to talk much, but we did have lunch the following week. I look forward to getting to know her better and to understand better what the similarities are between our faiths. She was also very flattering to me saying she searched me on the web and couldn't believe I had done all that I had but was as young as I am. While flattery will get you everywhere, I was more impressed that she had read about me (clearly the net identifies my orientation!) and was as open as she was.

Hawaii is not the most open place for LGBT people. Like the south there are some hard core fundamentalists here. Many Hawaiian churches actively proselytize and send missions to Asia. But Irene explained that Japanese culture has generally been very accepting of gay people, especially in the Shinto tradition where gay people had a ritual function.

I may not have discovered a lost tribe, but I am learning about a whole new tradition.

Ranch Dressing

I was concerned when I called Cook's Ranch in Waimanalo to find out about volunteering for their riding program for kids with disabilities. A gruff man answered the phone asked me if I was available the next day because they needed me and then rattled off some directions.

A program for kids with no background checks? No waivers or forms to fill out? Hmm, but I reminded myself that this is Hawaii where everything is not always as professionalized as one would expect.

I showed up the next morning after a stunning drive on the Pali Highway twining a cliff that overlooked a pristine eden. I pulled into the ranch, which along with being dusty seemed to be aging and in somewhat ill repair. A woman, who I would later learn was named "Auntie Pudgy" pulled in ahead of me. Rusty trailers littered the property and the stables seemed to do the trick, but were rickety. The horses were an interesting mix. A red faced man, the one from the phone enlisted me in helping take out the helmets. I did as I was told.

As I brought them to the table and helped line up the plastic barrel an out going red head, (the man was her husband) Patti greeted me with a hug. "We give hugs here! You are a godsend! We had a second group of kids from the local school ask if they could come!" She then gave me waivers to fill out and a name tag. She introduced me to Ben, the owner of the ranch, a striking middle aged Hawaiian man. Ben sized me up, "You a horse person?"

I hemmed and hawed. "If you mean and I am a horse expert, no. Have I ridden them and do I like them, yes." No response from Ben. He just looked at me and went back to grooming the horse. After meeting a handful of the volunteers, I had a few moments to take it the exquisite beauty of the valley and the surrounding accordian fold mountains that encirecled us.

A bus arrived and off came about 15 kids mostly around the ages of 6-9. I was very impressed with the series of exercises that Patti led the kids in before getting on the horses. For the kids who had more physical challenges, the exercises helped with motor control, balance and stretching parts of their body that get little attention. The kids who had more cognitive issues were guided in focusing and being present.

The range of needs and challenges was vast. There were kids with mild and severe autism, downs syndrome, muscular distrophy, developmental delays, including one enthusiastic child who had a stoke when he was an infant. Though mobility of one side was limited, he was giving it all he had and with an infectious grin the entire time.

Patti had them mount the barrels like they were horses, teaching them good technique and led them through balancing exercises on the barrel and then on a low to the ground balance beam where they did stretches. Then we had a series of exercies on a log higher up on the stable. There was "Woody" and "Ms. Woodette" which they practiced getting on the horse again and led through a series of stretches and comfort level sitting in a saddle. We also taught them the right words to get the horses started and to slow down.

The horses were older slower horses, but beautiful nonetheless. They were great with the kids and we walked them around the ring often sidewalking with the kids to ensure no one fell. Games were played with balls, rings, colors. Hanging things on posts, exchanging objects--even riding backwards, which Pattie explained helps the kids with all their hip muscles.

The kids were so happy as well. Omne of the higher energy kids, as they were leaving ran up to me full force and hugged me as he slammed himself against me almost knocking me off my feet. "Thanks!"he yelled. The teachers were all nice and one younger teacher suggested some places to go hear live music.

One volunteer and I struck up a conversation. Rosemarie, a dog lover, began telling me more about the island. She invited me to her church, which I may take her up on just to see. She, pudgy and a few others were very welcoming and the kids were having such a good time that the atmosphere was full of goodwill. Afterwards, people all had lunch together. I appreciated the offer of deviled roastbeef spread and macaroni salad, but I passed.

It was a good day and I enjoyed myself tremendously. It was a peaceful drive back to Waikiki.

Becoming a Tweenage Girl and PROUD OF IT!

Far be it for me to make gender stereotypes but... I was recounting on the phone with a friend about how I am occupying some of my time here in Hawaii. I talked about my trips on the boat recording data for the Wild Dolphin Foundation and seeing pods of the incredible spinner dolphins then I progressed on to my new volunteer opportunity at Cook's Ranch where I help disabled children ride horses. As I was listening to myself, I realized that coupling this with my excitement of seeing rainbows almost daily that somehow I have morphed into a 'tweenage girl. Next I will be writing Josh with a heart instead of an "o".

But seriously, I am having such great opportunities out here. Two to three times a week, I am going out on the boat off the leeward coast in Waianae to observe the dolphins. The boat is called the Island Spirit and it is owned by Tori and Armin. They run Wild Side tours and Tori is the founder and director of the Wild Dolphin Foundation (WDF). Wainae is the part of of Oahu I wrote about earlier where the tent cities are lined up all on the beach. There are approximately 3000 people homeless in this particular area, most of who are living in tent cities.

The boat harbor is pretty modest and fairly empty. Though I often spot local fishermen (and I mean men in this case)hanging out. There is a group of salty older men who hang out most of the day talking like the coastal version of the barbershop.

Each day that I go out on the boat is truly a spiritual experience. Just the beauty of the coast around me, the amazing breeze and the sparkling water is enough, but then when I spy a humpback whale and her baby or a pod of 100 dolphins, I am reminded of the complexities of creation. The other day we saw 4 humpbacks, which are headed back to Alaska during this time of year. There was a baby which had them surface more often, we watched for 20 minutes as they breathed. Just as we were leaving, I saw one of them do what is known as a spy hop. Usually you only see their tail, their back and the spout of water from their fluke. This time, the whale lunged forward and stuck half of his upper body out of the water. I could see his large eye even though were quite a distance away. He was checking out his surroundings.

The spinner dolphins are active, playful creatures that often like to swim in the waves of the boat so I have seen them up close. I have even swam with them on my first day. Yesterday they were extremely playful, exhibiting an aerial show that demonstrates their name. They can jump up to 9 feet out of the air and will often spin up to 7 times before landing. They are gray with white bellies. Right now is mating season so lots of white bellies can be seen! These dolphins are known to be quick in doing the deed (under a minute or so) and a notoriously underendowed when it comes to other dolphins. But they make up for it in acrobatics and being highly social.

Part of what I am observing is their behavior because we want to make sure that human presence is not disturbing their rest. They are nocturnal hunters and while they do not sleep, they must rest. They shut down their sonar and head in close to the beach where there are shallow sandy bottoms so predators are less likely. So far, from 8-noon, they do not seem to be in their resting grounds, which is a bit troubling, but could be due to mating season, where males from further out in the ocean come to the Waianae coast for their version of shore leave. This could be stirring up the pods.

I photodocument and record their behaviors in writing which I then enter into a database later. Also, we are trying to identify them by photographing their dorsal fins and any noticeable scars. There are these cookie-cutter sharks (about 2 ft long) that attach themselves to the dolphins at night and swim with them. When they are finished they spin in a circle using their teeth leaving a round chunk of skin missing--hence their name. These will often leave scars that will help identify them without tagging them. You can check out the WDF at wilddolphin.org.

When I do these days, I must get up at 5:15 am because I have to take Brian to work and then I have a 45-50 minute commute ahead of me to the harbor. I try to be there between 7:00 and 7:15. I am done around 12:30.

When I get there, I help the captain, Ann or Cara and the crew, Cara or Melissa get the boat ready. We greet the tour from Wild Side--usually a dozen to 18 people. I get the job of defogging their snorkel gear. I look at this as the boat equivalent of our ancestors greeting people by washing their feet. Most of the guests have been nice, though some have treated me like a servant until they find out that I am an intern--or better yet the one lady who was really demeaning was shocked to discover that I was a rabbi on sabbatical. She changed her behavior and seemed much more appreciative of my help.

The director and I have had some interesting conversations. She told she was surprised that a religious person would want to do this internship. When I asked why, she replied that "Didn't I think the world was ending soon? Why would I care about the environment then?" I laughed as I explained for progressive religious folks the environment was a major issue. Later on she made a similar assumption when she was surprised that I had some science background. She thought that why would I take science because what I do for a living is the opposite of science. I told her that many people of faith support evolution and science. She was amazed to hear so many people from the CDC were members of the synagogue. Though by the end of the day, she asked if I would consider officiating at her daughter's wedding in May. I will let you know if that happens.

Also on religious lines, the captain Ann invited me to help with a literacy program in Waianae. She said they were reading the book of Genesis in order to teach people to read. Skeptical about using the Bible as a primer, I asked for more info. I was told that she could really use my help because the next discussion was about circumcision. LOL! Maybe I will go and help her out.

I am off to the ranch now. I will write more about the horses later.

Don Ho's Final Show

I was reading the Friday entertainment section and saw Don Ho's twice weekly show. I mused out loud if I should get tickets for my mom when she came. Unfortunately, this past Thursday was his last show. The Hawaiian icon died yesterday and has left Hawaii befreft.

Crooner Don Ho dead at 76


HONOLULU (AP) - Legendary crooner Don Ho, who entertained tourists for decades wearing raspberry-tinted sunglasses and singing the catchy signature tune "Tiny Bubbles," has died. He was 76.

He died Saturday morning of heart failure, publicist Donna Jung said.

Ho had suffered with heart problems for the past several years, and had a pacemaker installed last fall. In 2005, he underwent an experimental stem cell procedure on his ailing heart in Thailand in 2005.

Ho entertained Hollywood's biggest stars and thousands of tourists for four decades. For many, no trip to Hawaii was complete without seeing his Waikiki show - a mix of songs, jokes, double entendres, Hawaii history and audience participation.

Shows usually started and ended with the same song, "Tiny Bubbles." Ho mostly hummed as the audience enthusiastically took over the song's swaying, silly lyrics: "Tiny bubbles/in the wine/make me happy/make me feel fine."

"I hate that song," he often joked to the crowd. He said he saved it for the end because "people my age can't remember if we did it or not."


The son of bar owners, Ho broke into the Waikiki entertainment scene in the early 1960s and, except for short periods, never left. Few artists are more associated with one place.

"Hawaii is my partner," Ho told The Associated Press in 2004.

Donald Tai Loy Ho, who was Hawaiian, Chinese, Portuguese, Dutch and German, was born Aug. 13, 1930, in Honolulu and grew up in the then-rural countryside of Kaneohe.

In high school, he was a star football player and worked for a brief time in a pineapple cannery. After graduating in 1949, he attended Springfield College in Massachusetts on an athletic scholarship. He grew homesick, returned to the islands and ended up graduating from the University of Hawaii in 1953 with a degree in sociology.

Inspired by the U.S. military planes flying in and out of Hawaii during the Second World War, Ho joined the Air Force. As the Korean War wound down, he piloted transport planes between Hickam Air Force Base in Honolulu and Tokyo.

When he returned home and took over his parents' struggling neighbourhood bar, Honey's, he put together a band and started performing at his father's request.

"I had no intention of being an entertainer," Ho said. "I just played songs I liked from the radio, and pretty soon that place was jammed. Every weekend there would be lines down the street."

Honey's became a happening place on Oahu, with other Hawaiian musicians stopping in for jam sessions. Ho began to play at various spots at Hawaii, and soon, he was packing places such as the Coconut Grove in Hollywood and the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas.

Stars such as Lucille Ball, Sammy Davis Jr. and Frank Sinatra were known to be in the audience for Ho's shows.

Ho also became a television star, and hosted the "The Don Ho Show" on ABC from 1976-77. One of Ho's most memorable TV appearances was a 1972 cameo on an episode of "The Brady Bunch."

"I've had too much fun all these years," he said in the 2004 interview. "I feel real guilty about it."

Besides "Tiny Bubbles," his other well-known songs include "I'll Remember You," "With All My Love," and the "Hawaiian Wedding Song."

Ocean's the Notion

For what is it to die
but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

And what is it to cease breathing
but to free the breath from its restless tides,
that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence
shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top,
then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs,
then shall you truly dance.

words from "The Prophet"
Khalil Gibran






We got dressed up for surprise number three which usually means in Hawaii, putting on long pants. We were headed to the theatre.

Surprise #3 was tickets to a reprise of one of Hawaii's best performances of the year before it toured the mainland-- "Electric Blue" by the Iona Contemporary Dance Company. This dance company is extraordinary in so ways.

The brilliant Cheryl Flaharty, the artistic director has a stunning vision. First, the evening's production communicated the power of the ocean--its mythology and the danger of its real present. Rarely have I seen a political message conveyed so beautifully. Almost every step of the way we were awed by the twining of the dances to communicate the ocean's stories and the need for us to preserve it. This performance should be performed in tandem with a showing of an Inconvenient Truth. There was a trio of spoken word with dance all about global warming. Flaharty says that "Electric Blue communicates the beauty and mystery of a central idea: our planet and our bodies are both 70% water; they rely on a subtle symmetry to maintain life."

The show at times was playful, arresting, challenging and stirring. At its best like its opening, it was a visual feast. The first number began with the reading above by Gibran. A single dancer and a single flowing line of sand from the ceiling invited us to reflect on the limitations of time for us and for the earth. Other numbers used the sand that had spilled in really interesting ways.

Flahartey combines traditional Japanese butoh dance with contemporary movements including acrobatics. The company is experimental in the best sense. Incorporating poetry, world music, storytelling, politics, mulitculturalism, feminism,video and romance the pay off is mostly sumptuous. Interspersed between the dances were videos of them in beautiful costumes dancing underwater. It was a stunning fairy tale. Even the diversity of the dancers is incredible which includes one person who identifies with the Mahu community here.

About the Mahu community from 'O Au No Keia:
Voices from Hawaii's Mahu and Transgender Communities
Andrew Matzner: Brian has this book which I look forward to reading-

The first Polynesian settlers arrived in Hawaii about 1000 years ago with a culture all of their own. From the time that Captain Cook arrived in 1778, and with the increasing ease of travel bringing immigration from all over the Pacific, to Hawaii's present incarnation as the fiftieth state of America, the old ways have all but disappeared. So little was it respected that the four Warrior Stones, set up over five hundred years ago, had all but disappeared under the sand, and for some years were built over with a bowling alley. Now with the world-wide interest in past history, and with many different cultures reclaiming their heritage, the stones have been restored. A plaque records the legend that they were set up in memory of four healers from Tahiti in the early days of Hawaiian history. What it does not mention is that many of legends suggest they were mahu, or hermaphrodite: "their habits coincided with their feminine appearance although manly in stature and general bearing"

Today, although less disparaged than in many other countries, the public face of Hawaiian mahu is of transvestite prostitutes. "Historically, transgendered people have been unable to control the ways that they are represented to the general public. They have been written about, most often by psychologists, academics, magazine writers and news reporters who have had little interest in actively involving their subjects in the writing and editing processes. Often, assuming that they will be treated fairly, transgendered people speak with writers and reporters in good faith. Frequently the opposite occurs, as they discover that they have been misquoted or portrayed in a negative light."

This, then, is the personal accounts of fifteen mahu or transgender people - health-care workers, performance artists, hula dancers, sex workers, a university graduate, a minister and a retired military officer. They come from a range of backgrounds from Hawaiian families that still retain some of the old ways, to others where they were rejected, to immigrants from the American mainland. They offer an unparalleled insight into their childhoods and schooldays, and their views of their lives in Hawaii as it is today.

On the whole, this was one of the best theatre performances I have ever seen. At times I felt that I was at the artistic equivalent of a dessert buffet. Each treat delicious and mouth watering--but after awhile it is too rich and too distracting. Flavors run together. So too, Flaharty would be best served by having restraint or better yet an artistic editor. Ultimately the only thing that would have served this important work better would have been if it had been tighter and only chosen with dances (which there were enough of) that underscored its theme of the ocean. What makes this company even more commendable is that it tours around all parts of the islands (especially the more impoverished communities) and performs on the beach and in the parks for free.



I have not seen many modern dance performances, but this performance did so many things wonderfully that I would seek out this kind of theatre again. Brian and I enjoyed it immensely and couldn't believe all that we had done in one day. We started in the ocean and ended the day in the ocean.

Jurassic Perk

After the Shark Adventure, we headed to Matsumo's which is the best place in Hawaii to get shaved ice. Often there are lines down the block, especially on hot days. Though it was just past 9 am, there was already a short line.

After exploring more of the North Shore, we headed to the East side of the island. We stopped for a Vietnamese lunch and proceeded to Surprise #2. As we pulled up to Kualoa Ranch, I convinced Brian that I had gotten him a rodeo skills package where he would learn lassoing, hog tying and cattle calls. I could tell he was trying to be positive about it, but what we were really doing is taking a 2 hour drive on ATV (4 wheelers) on the dirt roads around this magnificent ranch.

According to their web site, Kualoa is one of the most historically significant destinations on Oahu, and in ancient times, one of the most sacred places on the island. In 1850, Dr. Gerrit P. Judd purchased the land from King Kamehameha III and the property has remained in the family ever since. The current family owners strive to be role model stewards of the 'aina (land), by preserving and protecting it from development.

Kualoa means 'long back'; the ranch is full of beautiful valleys and mountain peaks.

Some credit this name to a voyaging chief, Lua Nu'u. According to tradition, Kane the 'creator' required an offering. Lua Nu'u looked amongst the mountains of Kahikiku but found no location suitable. Seeking divine guidance, he was told to travel eastward until he found a sharp peak jutting from the ocean. It was at Kualoa, that Lua Nu'u found the sacred offering site.

The sheer beauty makes it easy to understand why Kualoa is seen as sacred. Most pronounced is the majestic mountains rising around the sea. The highest peak atop the Kualoa ridge called Kanehoalani, towers 1900 feet skyward and means "Kane's heavenly companion".

Brian and I managed to get on the ATVs that were at the very end of the group, which turned out to be good because we could leave space and drive the ATVs a bit faster. We saw amazing vistas and rode some rough trails, crossed small streams and passed by many lazy cows that barely paid us any attention. On one hill, I hit a bump and loss control of the wheel giving Brian a great birthday present by heading straight into a tree down the side of a hill. No injuries this time except embarrassment by the fawning of the staff and the offers for me to finish the tour in the tram.

As we continued on we saw the areas were they filmed parts of Godzilla, Lost, Pearl Harbor and Jurassic Park!

It was a great tour, but we needed to clean off since we covered in dust from the head to toe. The third surprise was a very different change in venue.

Brian's Birthday Celebration

Since Brian turned 33-- I decided to plan 3 surprise adventures for his celebration. The first one required us to get up at 5:30 AM (not such a nice present) and head to the North Shore. Brian kept guessing that we were going whale watching or sky diving. Even when we pulled into the N. Shore Small Boat Harbor he didn't register the sign that said NS Shark Adventure. He was taken aback when I finally revealed the surprise. There was the caveat in the beginning that he did not have to do anything he didn't want to. But he was a trooper.

We were joined on the boat by 8 other passengers: a father and a teenage son (who ended up puking his guts overboard), another teenage son and father (the father did not participate)and a couple in their 30s and the woman's dad. Who knew swimming in a shark cage was such a family experience. The sons and fathers were funny as there was this whole sullen, angry teenage vibe going on--like their fathers were inflicted upon them during this cool experience. Never mind, who was paying for their cool experiment. And on the other side, fathers desperate to connect to their sons without being too pushy. It all made for a quiet ride as we mostly listened to our two crewmen make silly jokes about lawyers and sharks.

As we made our way to the buoys, I saw a whale's tail slap the ocean and the spray of water shoot up like a missile from its fluke. We arrived in an area that had been marked by crab trappers. The shark adventure came about when a crabber realized that after years of emptying the bait from the crab traps, the sharks began to recognize the sound of the boat and like the good Pavlovian animals they are connected it to the bait in the water. These bottom dwellers now come to the surface when they hear the boat engines.

As the sharks surface, 3 people enter a cage that has quite large gaps?! The crew throws fish around the cage (not many) and the sharks eat. We were the last to go in the cage, 5 sharks swam around us in circles coming close enough to nip off a finger or toe that held on to the cage. They were Sandbar and Galapagos sharks. I can't say that I had tremendous fear, I was really struck by their beauty and the ingenious fish that swim in the wake create under the shark's bellies.

Cold, we dried off and hung out on the North Shore--though the way to our next adventure was blocked by a landslide. We had several hours to take an alternate route for the 2nd adventure.

Back and Blogging

I took a break from blogging. My trip back to Atlanta was good. It was great to connect with folks especially since so much of my Denver trip felt like hibernation. Being home was the opposite.

I am at the airport now waiting to take off. This will be a very different section of my sabbatical. I am looking forward to resting and relaxing. I have travelled so many times since the sabbatical began that I am looking forward to getting somewhere and staying. Even in my three weeks home in Atlanta, I went to Tampa for a bet din on a conversion and then led 3 intense diversity workshops for the Jewish community in S. Jersey. In 4 months I have travelled by plane 14 times and taken two major road trips back and forth to Denver.

Staying put sounds nice.

Ponce Upon A Time

Oh what a night! (It was more than an Afternoon Delight!)

Rebecca Wax, Charlie Chasen, and all the volunteers that helped make Purim on Ponce a reality should be applauded for creating one of the funnest evenings in Jewish community history! This is what an adult Purim celebration should be like. People letting down their hair or putting more hair on (ahem, you Hooter Girls know who you are!). It was a great mix of people. Fun costumes--especially fabulous in my eyes was the brilliance of Carrie Hausman coming as my travel companion "Hashem-the Ugly Doll". The generosity of Owen was incredible as was the artists who created fabulous masks. And as good as the drag queens were our hometown talent was better! Our 3 divas put the can can in cantor!

Aptly, I went as the Abominable Snowman --or better yet as Yeti the Yente because in coming to Atlanta I braved an early drive to the airport (I was picked up at 4 am) when it had just begun to snow, which means no salt on the highways. On the way there, the van began to swerve from one lane to the next--skidding on the ice. One passenger began to curse uncontrollably at our driver, who was also freaking out. I suggested to the woman that we would be better off if we were all quiet since we were skidding for what felt quite awhile and cars were nearing up ahead that I was certain we were going to hit. She stopped cursing but began to repeat the words, "Oh, Jesus, oh Jesus, Oh JESUS!" When the van founds its wheels, the woman who could not keep quiet turned around and said, "I am so sorry. I don't know what got in to me. I don't even know why I was saying that name, I am Jewish!" Oy!

It was worth going through that to be there Saturday night. It was so wonderful to see folks and hear how people are doing. It was fun and relaxed. It made me realize that I have missed CBH and so many great CBHers. It was a nice feeling and I felt warm and fuzzy when Rabbi Steve Greenberg spoke to me about what an incredible community we have created here. He is right. I am always glad to be reminded that CBH is a special place. It just goes to show you that the American philosopher Dorothy Gale was right, "There's No Place Like Home!"

San Francisco Addendum

I neglected to include one of my favorite moments in SF. In some ways it was an interesting experience because it was completely random.

After walking all over SF, Brian and I were hungry. Somehow I managed to find a route back towards the hotel that was nearly devoid of open restaurants. I do not know how I did this. While I was happy that my powers of direction were good enough to get back to the hotel, our hope for finding a bite to eat was thwarted.

We made it back to Triton and decided to try the European cafe next to it. In the moments between dropping backpacks off in the room and going next door, it seemed like a tour bus let out a group of 100 tourists who were all waiting to be seated. Thwarted again, we walked around the corner and saw a plaine tiny soup and sandwich shop that advertised vegetarian soups.

We walked in and it was a half Mediterranean wrap store and half cookie store. Hungry enough we stayed and order wraps. When I asked for Tzatziki sauce instead of Tahina, the owner with far too much remorse told me he was out of it. No problem. As we waited, this man brought us free falafel, pita, and grape leaves.

One of the great things about Brian that we share is a genuine interest in people. His openness and friendly demeanor invite conversations with strangers so when we are together, we both end up striking up conversations with unique individuals.

We engaged the owner whose name we found out was Rezzel (sp?), an Iranian refugee. I could tell he was reluctant to say that he was Iranian at first so I shared with him that I went to school with many Iranians/Persians and as a result I know my share of curse words in Farsi. He laughed and he insisted on teaching us a few clean words.

When hearing that Brian was living in Hawaii, he lit up as he too had lived in Hawaii for a handful of years in Waikiki, where Brian lives. They spoke about the challenges of fitting in and be accepted. He managed a Mrs. Fields cookie store there. He spoke about loving San Francisco because he felt like everyone was accepted and that being different was appreciated as long as you were accepting in response. He said he did not spend much time in the large SF Iranian community preferring to have a diverse group of friends.

We didn't press why he felt he had to leave Iran, I wondered if he might have been gay. He did recently spend some time in Turkey so he could visiti his family in Iran who were aging. We spoke about the beauty of Turkey and its rich cultural importance.

By the time we were leaving, he was practically offering us the store. We refused his offer of free cookies a number of times.

What a refreshing meeting! To meet someone so open and friendly who grew up in such a restrictive environment was nice. It constantly reminds me of the kinds of wonderful opportunities we have in the US to really learn about other cultures and backgrounds.

Rabbi Sheila Weinberg

Ahh Shabbat is coming. I have Shabbat dinner plans with David and Gregg (and their daughter Sasha)who are the co-editors of our book project. Which by the way, is looking like it is really shaping up! I am also packing for Atlanta and The Rainbow Center's Purim on Ponce fundraiser.

This afternoon I met with a small group of local rabbis who were welcoming one of my favorite teachers: Sheila Weinberg. Sheila is one of the faculty members of the Institute of Jewish Spirituality and has been a tremendous role model as a teacher and just as a kind soul. Two Reconstructionist congregations are hosting her as a scholar in residence in the area.

We studied two Hasidic texts. One that taught about how with each breath we are new creations. The second was a funny moment for me. It was a text written by R. Meshullam Feibush of Zhbariz. He is a Hasidic rebbe from Eastern Galicia who was a student of the Maggid of Mezrich. He taught the following:

Even if at the moment we are not able to pray with full reverence and love of God, our words of prayer can still rise up to the degree that we have fully connected ourselves to others saying, "I now take on myself to fulfill the positive commandment of 'Love your neighbor as yourself'". In that moment, we must bind ourselves with the bonds of love to the souls of all the righteous of our generation, particularly if we can imagine their faces, which will increase our capacity to make our thoughts and words one.


As I prepare for Shabbat, I am reminded of how I often ask people to envision the face of a loved one before L'chah Dodi. I wondered if it was a cheesy thing to do, but I love that there is this precedence. I also love what this text says about the importance of community in support of our worship.

Shabbat Shalom!

A San Francisco Treat!

Shortly after I returned from Asheville, I had a few days in Denver where finally the single digits had ended and the coldest January overall on the books was turning into a not-so-terrible February. Mind you there has been snow (as it will begin to snow tonight again) but it has been punctuated by days of 40, 50 degree weather and even one glorious 60 degree day.

For some strange reason, my hives that were diminishing returned with a vengeance leaving me polka dotted and streaked, not to mention very itchy and grumpy. I laid low in preparation for my trip to San Francisco.

I flew out last Thursday to meet Brian who flew in from Honolulu. It was funny, he was concerned about not having warm enough clothes and I was concerned that my clothes would be too warm. It is all a frame of reference. I was looking forward to what was forecast to be a glorious weekend-and SF did not disappoint.

We stayed at the Triton Hotel, which is a delightfully funky boutique hotel with brilliant colors, arresting patterns, adventurous fabrics and cookies served at 3pm (wine at 5p). The headboard, a zebra print matched the bathrobe! The hotel overlooked the China Gate--a perfect place to welcome the New Year. We welcomed in the year of the Fire Pig.

We spent our first day at MOMA SF which was free. They had some great photography exhibits, though 2 floors were closed due to new installations. We also walked around Chinatown looking for a Year of the Boar t-shirt. We had a delicious Chinese lunch after which I needed to nap since I had awoke at 4 am to catch the plane and my antihistamine was still flowing. Afterwards, I met one of Brian's best friends, Helisa Katz, who is a Jewish lesbian that is a sign interpreter and who specializes and is piloting new methods of working with deaf and hard of hearing infants. Meeting her with her delightfully frizzy Jewish coif and huge smile, one can instantly understand how perfect it is that she works with children. No doubt, they love her.

The next day was a little taste of spring. We explored Golden Gate Park and in its botanical gardens signs of spring were in bloom. Japanese magnolias and cherry blossoms were magnificent--as were the small yellow flowers on the expanses of lawn. Walking around the park was exhilarating. It was good to be with Brian. We hustled back to the hotel in order to see Beach Blanket Babylon--the longest running cabaret show. A lighthearted, big costumed, wacky musical review about Snow White's search for love amidst politics, pop culture and golden oldies. It is a San Francisco institution. We finished the evening off with dinner at the Stinking Rose- a garlic restaurant! Yummy! And Brian had gelatto of which I only had a taste. We had a leisurely mile walk back to the hotel.

The next day we explored the Castro-- who knew but it was an Internation Bear Convention. We spent some time at the Human Rights Campaign Store where I met Justin who has just moved to SF from Atlanta. We commiserated on the politics of GA which was the main reason he chose to leave. We walked around Dolores Mission Park and everyone was out on this stunningly beautiful and warm day. There was hardly any green left uncovered from the throngs of people. What a great sight!

That evening Helisa joined us as we went to see the world premiere of Legally Blond: The Musical. This serious piece of drama told of the harrowing and brave story of Elle Wood's journey to Harvard. Not! This pepto bismol of a music was anything but abysmal. Fun, light, fluffy and fast paced; it was an enjoyable piece of cotton candy theater with a bit (only a bit) more substance than the actual confection.

Sunday we battled the throngs of people in Chinatown as we took in the small festival for New Years. The major parade was taking place on March 3rd. Brian shopped for gifts to bring back to his office while I kept an eye open for my sister's birthday present. We walked all the way to Fisherman's Wharf to see the Sea Lions which were there usual lazy and antagonistic selves. On the way, we cheered on the bikers from the Tour de California. We topped off our evening in a Korean Karaoke house with private rooms where we met up with half a dozen of Brian and Helisa's friends. My rendition of YMCA brought everyone to their feet and tears to people's eyes. I guess my voice lessons are not paying off.

Monday--we shopped a tad more back in C-town and made our made to the airport. I kept scratching my head: "Why Denver? Why not San Francisco?" What a great city!

Graetz-ified

My timing was off. I had not fully recovered from my root canal, where my dentist was thorough but slow. They had me in the chair for over 3 hours with the root canal and the crown prep. By the end, I was wishing my mouth was wired shut. Also, I discovered that I did indeed have a penicillin allergy, which I was prescribed in preparation for the tooth drilling so I was covered in hives from head to toe.

So when I flew to Asheville less than 48 hours later, I was not feeling my best. Actually, I considered calling the Human Rights Campaign and canceling, but I didn’t. I flew Sunday AM into Charlotte and then on a prop plane to Asheville for a Safe Space conversation. I was one of three speakers to a group of clergy in the A’ville area that were in different stages of dealing with LGBT issues. Many of them were individually supportive but were unsure of how to broach these issues with their congregations.

I was told that there would be a straight couple speaking too: Robert and Jeannie Graetz. Robert was a Lutheran pastor and his wife was his partner in all his endeavors. When I arrived in Charlotte I saw an older white couple that looked like a very traditional Christian Midwestern couple. He wore a large cross and I wondered if this could be the Graetz’s but decided that as progressives no one would wear such a large cross. I was wrong.

We were picked up by another older couple the Hunts and I listened to Horace Hunt and Robert (Bob) talk. Bob mentioned he served for many years in Montgomery and Horace began to talk about bringing a group of students to M’gmery in the 50s and meeting a white Lutheran pastor of a black church. Sure enough, the only white Lutheran minister of a black church was Bob. They had met half a century ago.

Then I learned more about Bob and Jeannie’s extraordinary history! Bob and Jeannie were sent down to M’gmery to serve a Lutheran church only after promising that they would not start any trouble. Start was the operative word for them. Shortly after they arrived, the SCLC youth leader at their church was a woman (who became a close friend) by the name of Rosa Parks who refused to move from her seat. Faced with the decision to support the bus boycott that ensued, Bob said he prayed about it and came to the awareness that he could not be a good pastor if he was not involved in the actions of his parishioners. That Sunday he announced the boycott from the pulpit and told people he would be driving folks to and from work.

He and Jeannie were some of the few white faces involved in strategizing for civil rights. He worked with King, Abernathy, Rustin and other well known folks. Jeannie spoke of the three times their home was bombed and the numerous visits by the Klu Klux Klan. Bob spoke of one meeting where King said, “If you are not prepared to die for this cause please leave.” Bob said he realized that King was a target and so was he as the only white face amongst the leadership. I was riveted listening to their story.

When asked where their courage emerged, Jeannie spoke about how a good friend of theirs and someone supportive of the call to civil rights told them to leave because they would surely be killed. Their friend urged that they needed to leave just for the sake of their children. Jeannie said that nearly convinced her, but that night she asked another friend to come over and pray with her. This Methodist minister after praying responded that God was in Montgomery just as God was anywhere else and that she could stay there and be taken care of. While knowing this, she said she felt as if the Holy Spirit was speaking to her and from that moment on was committed to staying put.

They believe that they are still living because of God’s desire for them to continue their civil right’s mission. While tears fell from Bob’s eyes during many of these stories, he shed many when he spoke about his second oldest, Robert Jr. Robert, or Ray as he named himself, led them to their current ministry. Ray was their gay son who Bob and Jeannie for the longest time could not fully embrace despite their openness in the civil rights movement. I began to join him in shedding tears of my own when he described driving his eighteen year old son (they were then in Ohio) to the interstate so he could hitchhike to San Francisco where Ray felt he could be in a safe haven. Ray knew at an early age he was gay and could not find a home in his Lutheran church and while loved by his family, he felt profoundly misunderstood.

Ray became a successful fashion designer where he designed men’s clothing. Bob looked at me and asked, “ You may be too young, but do you know of a singer by the name of Sylvester?” Of course, I did. Ray had designed many of his clothes. Ray died of AIDS at 37, a few months after his grandfather died. Bob says the inheritance that his father left behind allowed virtually all of Ray’s 6 siblings and his parents to say their farewells. In taking care of his during his last days, Ray’s family eyes were opened to God’s presence in all people—including gay and lesbian folks. This became their new mission and was why they were in Asheville presenting with me. What an inspirational opportunity.

They Safe Space conversation went really well. All 3 presentations complemented each other so well. The communal worship was led by UCC minister Rev Kelly Sisson who led us in ritual and prayer to see other perspectives. She also made me jealous when she spoke of her congregation’s sanctuary doubling as a fine arts gallery and that her basement of the church was a stone carving workshop.

My presentation was an exercise and discussion about what it means to be an ally using the Hillel text of
“If I am only for myself than who will be for me? If I am only for myself than what am I? If not now, when?” This text allowed us to discuss the urgency of being an ally for LGBT people and to look earnestly at the barriers. People were forthcoming and honest. The one rabbi shared about the hate language used at his son’s high school and the beating that one of his congregants took who is a transgendered youth. The Graetzes insisted that I was an inspiration to them and I laughed. Who is the inspiration to whom?

The man who organized the event was a man who had received much publicity in the local press when he announced in a sermon that he no longer signed marriage licenses. He would officiate marriage ceremonies, but would not serve as an agent of the state.

Joe Hoffman used to live in Atlanta where he served a UCC community. Care to guess which one? Yes, Central. Hmm, all roads lead back to Central it seems.

Saying goodbye to the Graetzes was filled with hugs and promises to be in touch. I certainly hope that I get to see them again. Also, it was good to see my friend Harry Knox who is the HRC director of the Faith and Action who did his usual awesome job at facilitating the event.

I am on a much delayed flight back to Denver. The weather on the East Coast has backed everything up. We are over 3 hours delayed. But there are times that meeting history make worthwhile. It was humbling and powerful to be with the past and to support the future.

The Ethics of the Other

Ethics of the Other

After having breakfast with the Arnold family and losing miserably at foosball to 10 year old Jonah, I went home. I had hopes of working out but I was incredibly tired from the weekend and still sore. My right eye and right side of my nose throbbed a bit. I went home took a nap and went to a SuperBowl party. I was semi-rooting for the Bears, but like most of the other guys at the party I was more interested in the commercials. I found the opening act of Cirque Du Soleil with Brito’s costumes lots of fun, but could not imagine what person thought that dancing butterflies and big puffy balloons in bright colors and patterns would appeal to the masses of Superbowl watches. Perhaps they were trying a little something for everyone. But then again, this year they asked Prince to sing so that too seemed to be a very odd choice. In other words it was the queerest SuperBowl I have ever watched. Not a bad one to actually see.

I left during halftime to meet the guys from Jewish Mosaic for dinner. We had amazing Vietanamese food—seriously the best Vietnamese food I have ever have. Afterwards, we went to see Children of Men with Clive Owen and Julianne Moore. I am not sure if I was just bored with this post-apocalyptic drama where reproduction has gone by the wayside or if I wasn’t feeling well. Either way, half way through I wanted to be in bed asleep. Not a good sign when one goes to an action flick.

I took Monday pretty easy. Had a voice lesson, went to the acupuncturist who used tiny Korean needles on my face.

Tuesday was an interesting day. I attended the Anti-Defamation League’s civil right’s luncheon where they were honoring reporter William Hosokawa and former Denver mayor Federico Peña. Both had impressive biographies. Bill Hosokawa is a retired Japanese reporter for the Rocky Mountain Times who endured both the trials of being told by his university that no one would hire a Japanese journalist and denied placements, and the far worse trial of being forced into the Japanese internment camps during the war. With little rancor in his voice, he told his story of the journey he made as a Japanese American who was denied many opportunities to being a successful journalist and advocate for human rights..

Frederico Pena, a powerhouse of a mayor has been a visionary for Denver. He pioneered historic preservation in Denver and was a champion for the arts. He nbotably served as Transportation Secretary under Clinton, but he was awarded at the luncheon for his work on immigration rights. He spoke very movingly about his ambivalence of taking on another issue wondering whether he had already given his “due” on important issues. However, his wife and his step daughter convinced him that his voice was needed in the immigration struggle. His stepdaughter told him, if you are going to participate in the rally, go big or don’t go at all.

Later that evening, I went to the first of 3 master classes on the philosopher Emmanuel Levinas given by scholar Claire Katz. He wrote of the ethics of the other. Similar to Buber, he spoke of godliness in theother, but took the relationship further in outlining our inherent responsibility to the other. Some would argue, that his vision was burdensome and overly involved. Though anyone involved in social justice would be compelled and challenged by his philosophy.

From Wikipedia:
Levinas received a traditional Jewish education in Lithuania. After WWII, he studied the Talmud under the enigmatic "Monsieur Chouchani."
Levinas began his philosophical studies at Strabourg University in 1924, where he began his lifelong friendship with the French philosopher Maurice Blanchot, which later on turned into more than a friendship. Later he met Martin Heidegger. Levinas became one of the very first French intellectuals to draw attention to Heidegger and Husserl..
According to his New York Times obituary, Levinas came to regret his enthusiasm for Heidegger, because of the latter's Nazism. Levinas wrote "One can forgive many Germans, but there are some Germans it is difficult to forgive. It is difficult to forgive Heidegger."
After earning his doctorate Levinas taught at a private Jewish university in Paris, the Ecole Normale Israelite Orientale, eventually becoming its director. He began teaching at the University of Poitiers in 1961, at the Nanterre campus of the University of Paris in 1967, and at the Sorbonne 1973, from which he retired in 1979.
In the 1950s, Levinas emerged from the circle of intellectuals surrounding Jean Wahl as a leading French thinker. His work is based on the ethics of the Other or, in Levinas' terms, on "ethics as first philosophy." For Levinas, the Other is not knowable and cannot be made into an object of the self, as is done by traditional metaphysics (which Levinas called "ontology"). Levinas prefers to think of philosophy as the "wisdom of love" rather than the love of wisdom(the literal Greek meaning of the word "philosophy"). By his lights, ethics becomes an entity independent of subjectivity to the point where ethical responsibility is integral to the subject; hence an ethics of responsibility precedes any "objective searching after truth."
Levinas derives the primacy of his ethics from the experience of the encounter with the Other. For Levinas, the irreducible relation, the epiphany, of the face-to-face, the encounter with another, is a privileged phenomenon in which the other person's proximity and distance are both strongly felt. "The Other precisely reveals himself in his alterity not in a shock negating the I, but as the primordial phenomenon of gentleness."[2]. At the same time, the revelation of the face makes a demand, this demand is before one can express, or know one's freedom, to affirm or deny. One instantly recognizes the transcendence and heteronomy of the Other. Even murder fails as an attempt to take hold of this otherness.

The master class began with a look of Levinas prescient crtiquie of Hitler’s philosophy and its incompatiability with Christianity and the danger of its collusion . It was an interesting class and it was followed by a book group discussion at Professor Pessin’s home (a funky concrete loft in SoDo) about Katz’s book Levinas, Judaism and the Feminine: The Silent Footsteps of Rebecca. What a great evening! While many of the people there were into the philosophical nuances of his position, I kept asking the baser questions about practical application and how to apply Levinas’ vision to contemporary Jewish life.

What an interesting day, where the awards banquet served as a background for the philosophy I was studyig.

Blood and Glory

It is 545 am and the wind is howling like a starving coyote. I am in Evergreen, CO staying at my friends' home. Jamie and Marty were good friends in rabbinical school where all 3 of their kids were born. Jamie is the rabbi of Beth Evergreen, a recon 'gog. Marty was a midwife during school but has given that a break. She is incredibly gifted; they both are.

As I drove up to Evergreen, I was struck by the incredible beauty all around. The mountains were particularly majestic with the frame of snow and blue skies. I was filled with both awe and so happy that my friends were living in such a beautiful place. After all, jamie had been a rabbi in Buffalo, NY so though in another cold spot, this one was stunning.

Brrr. It is chilly because I turned off the heater cuz my throat was dry, but I will have to turn it back on. It is not so different at the place I am staying at in Denver. I have not figured out how to overide my landlord's thermostat settings so everynight it drops to 60 degrees and I wake up chilly.

It has been a good week but not without its challenges. I know I haven't written in awhile. A friend of mine used to live in Denver and he and his friend Joe started a group of guys getting together weekly for dinner and watching Battlestar Galactica. I was dubious as I am not a science fiction fan, but it is a really good group of guys who were incredibly welcoming of me. Joe, the "mother" of the group does a lot of cooking and is the host of the weekly gathering. He and I had lunch last weekend and then saw a movie (Epic Movie-run don't walk--- in the opposite direction) with a very sweet couple from the group.

Workwise, we have resubmitted the book proposal to the press and will wait to hear back. In the meantime I have some reading for the book to do.

I started voice lessons with an interesting guy. John is a little short on the social graces so I was unsure at first. The beginning of our meeting was a bit awkward though I was greeted outside by his cat George who was a fluffy, lovable dog-cat. Friendly, interested and needing attention. These are my favorite kind of felines.

Once we started, music is clearly where John comes alive. His somewhat subtle (lifeless) presence became animated, with twinkling eyes even when he started talking music. I have to practice today. We are working on relaxing my face, neck and throat--which may be hard since my face is swollen from yesterday's shenanigan's. I'll get there. Let's just say there was lots of blood and all of it was mine.

Also, there are two recon rabbis in Denver. One at a 'gog called B'nai Havurah and the other at an organization that holds Jewish events called Judaism Your Way. I had only met the first rabbi Steve Booth at conventions and such. Though, I must have seen him in winter climates because when I met him Tuesday night (after a great class on Paul's Jewish roots) seeing him with a beret on struck my deja vu chord.

Steve is a great guy who is disarmingly direct. I appreciate that trait immensely, no guess work. A former taxi cab driver, he is someone who really seems to be energized by the rabbinate. He invited me to a dinner hosted by a Muslim organization (mosaic something--will find it when I am home). They host dinners to promote the idea of dialogue. This group was very sweet and dedicated and mostly from Turkey. They served something called Noah's pudding to commemorate the holiday of the prophet Noah (pbuh-their abbreviation for peace be upon him) and his rescue of the world. In their version Noah's wife gets left behind. And according to the Muslim legend when food gets low in the ark Noah combines the leftovers and creates a pudding. This pudding made with different beans and apricots is a sweet thick concoction that is made and shared as a gesture of good will. Last Monday was the day when this custom was observed. I was uncertain whether this was an official Muslim holiday or a Turkish observance since Christians in turkey also participate. Adventurous in many ways; I am not very adventurous with food and garbanzo bean pudding did not sound to appealing! I did taste it and though also not a pudding fan (sorry, Bill Cosby) it was OK. We ended the evening with a game of foosball 2 Jews playing 2 Muslims. Each team won a game. One of our competitors was a handsome man who had held the title of Turkey's Wrestling Champion.

I hope to do some more things with Steve--he is hosting an NCBI workshop on interfaith dialogue. National Coalition Building Institute. Also, one of my teachers from the institute of Jewish spirituality is coming to his Shul.

Among the growing cast of characters in CO is my acupuncturist, a truly great guy who is a bit into extreme sports and motorcycling. Dustin Slade (a porn star name if I ever heard one) is quite skilled and he explains everything and all the points. I love that. If someone is sticking a needle in me I want to know why. One of his teachers is a Jewish man and Qi gong master who is a bit of a mystic. Dustin loves to ask me about pop-Jewish mysticism, my name for it not his. We always have interesting conversations and the acupuncture itself seems to be working in the ways it should. Though once he was working on some shoulder pain and put a needle in the back part of my shoulder and forgot to remove it. So as I was leaving, I was trying to figure out why there was sharp pain in my shoulder. Putting on my sweater I had pushed the needle in further. Ouch. He was embarrassed, but it is not uncommon. One acupuncturist left a needle in my head and I got quite a surprise when I went to sit in my car and drive.

The sun is coming up and my face is beginning to throb. Just the left side. Yesterday, I arrived in evergreen and was greeted by Jamie and Marty and the cutest kid ever Michaela who looks just like her mom Marty. It was so great to see them!
The boys came in from sledding, Tal who is 12 and Jonah who is almost 11. We had a great shabbos lunch and it was so nice to see them as a whole family. They're funny, smart, creative, energetic. It just felt so great to be an addition. And I hadn't realized this, but they consider me Michaela's godfather. I had helped Jamie write a unique ritual to welcome Michaela into the Jewish covenant.

Soon after lunch, the boys wanted to go sledding. I was game. So the three kids plus a friend and Jamie and I went out to their back yard where there was a terrifically tall and long hill. They had a whole game set up. A race for who could get to the bottom going through a narrow gate they had created. Jonah claimed me for his team and on our first time down miraculously I came in first navigating my sled through the gate. Boy, did I earn my street cred or should I say my snow cred with the boys. Walking back up the hill was hard. My feet sank several inches in the snow and I didn't realize that I had ascended 2000 more feet in elevation in Evergreen so physical activity was a bit more challenging.

After a couple times down, I decided to try going down head first like I had when I was a kid. Yes, this is where you should cover your eyes. I was speeding down, and hit a small drift and went up in the air! How cool. Then I was landing and there was Jamie stretched out in the snow with his daughter. I hit the ground and was going incredibly fast with my face aligned with Jamie's boot. Pow! Kersplat! Thud! I saw blackness for a second but the gushing sensation kept me awake. Blood was flowing out of my nose and all in my mouth. I didn't know what all was bleeding. My mouth felt cut. It wasn't, just swollen. At a certain point, I just looked down and saw how beautiful the blood looked on the snow. Finally, I got the blood to stop with some tylenol thanks to Marty. My nose, left eye and left front tooth and gums are all tender but no loss. This morning, I can feel the bruise! My nose may be broken--the kids looked at me puzzled when I asked if my nose made me look Jewish now. Then I went back to sledding! Hey, I learned from rugby. Maybe this cured my deviated septum.

After that we went inside and hung out. I got a tour of the kids' rooms and they each wanted to show me their prized possessions: dragons, books, homework, art. It was nice. We did havdallah, followed by dinner and mission impossible. I was asleep by 10, hence the early wake up time.

It was a good day--even with the blood loss. Who wouldn't trade a little blood for a good day?
ublish