Saturday, March 30, 2013
One Dave At A Time: Growing up Jewish in the Shwa
One Dave At A Time: Growing up Jewish in the Shwa: I grew up in Oshawa (aka: Shwa). There has been a small Jewish community in Oshawa for over 50 years. The key word in that sentencing being ...
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Growing up Jewish in the Shwa
I grew up in Oshawa (aka: Shwa). There has been a small Jewish community in Oshawa for over 50 years. The key word in that sentencing being "small". When I went to grade school there were three Jewish kids, my older brother, myself and my younger sister. My parents were heavily involved in the local synagogue (I'm pretty sure my grandfather was one of the founders) and promoted Judaism in our home.
We weren't orthodox Jews by any means but my parents did keep a Kosher household. Up to my late teens I was always mixing up those darn meat and dairy dishes. My mom was continuously telling me that I had grabbed the wrong plate or fork. I'm not totally sure but I think in an orthodox Jewish household we would have had to break the plate and never use it again but at my place we just washed it. We got a third set of dishes after my grandmother passed away. Those would become our Passover dishes. Thus expanding the chances of me picking the wrong dish or utensil to use.
My parents also used many Yiddish phrases that I took to be general knowledge on everyone's part. I remember one of the first times I went to a friend's house for dinner. They were eating chicken and asked me what piece of chicken I wanted. I told them I wanted a polka and a fliggo (sp) (that's Yiddish for drumstick and wing). They looked at me like I had gone crazy and asked me the question again to which I gave the same answer. I finally had to point out the pieces I wanted which is when I learned the English names for them.
One thing I hated was going to Hebrew School three times a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays after regular school and on Sundays. We learned the Old Testament and how to read Hebrew so we could pray on the Sabbath. Every five years, give or take, the synagogue would get a new Rabbi. So I had many Rabbis and Rebbetzin (Rabbi's wife) who were my teachers. There was one Rabbi who played guitar and we learned lots of songs. There is one song that is sung every Sabbath to conclude services called Adon Olam. The guitar Rabbi showed us that it could be sung to just about any music. He taught us to sing it to the theme of Gilligan's Island. We loved that. That Rabbi also got us into learning how to read Hebrew proficiently by getting us involved in Hebrew speed reading contests. I excelled at those. One of my favourite Rabbis was the one who taught me what to say at my Bar Mitzvah. Like most rabbis who came to our synagogue this was his first gig and he was very young. He not only taught me my Bar Mitzvah but would give me a couple driving lessons to. I remember one Sunday I was the only person who showed up to Hebrew School so he took me Go-Karting. It was a blast. He would also let me have a drag off his cigarette once in awhile. (Well, maybe that wasn't such a good thing but to a teenager it was cool). On the Sabbath he would say the blessing for the wine after services. He had a big cup full of wine he held to make the blessing (for some reason it has to be filled to the top). He would say the prayer, take a sip then hand the cup to me to go dump. I would then go off to dump the wine but down it instead (hmm, beginning to see some insight into future alcohol problems I would face - but that's a different blog).
Once I entered high school my awareness of differences expanded. It was here that I found out that something called a cheeseburger existed. I grew up being taught to never mix milk and meat and so had never had a cheeseburger. I saw one in the school cafeteria and after one of my friends explained what it was I tried it and loved it. I would also find out that the majority of lasagnas were made with meat. My mom's, unbeknownst to me, was vegetarian. Although I still prefer her's. One thing I also can't stand today is having steak or roast beef with a glass of milk. It makes me cringe.
High school also brought dating. My final year of high school I finally got a girlfriend (she wasn't Jewish). My parents didn't freak out but I was told by mother, in no uncertain terms, that I wouldn't be able to marry the girl. (It would turn out that neither myself or my siblings would marry a Jewish person but my sister came the closest as she married a doctor). I remember one day my dad picked me up from work and told me that my mom was washing my pants and found an empty condom wrapper in one of the pockets. I was stunned and the only thing I could think of to say was, "which pocket?"
I didn't experience much antisemitism in the Shwa, The stuff I did experience was mostly from people who didn't even know what they were talking about, just repeating stuff they heard from their parents.
I guess growing up Jewish in the Shwa was pretty good.
Dave the Dude
We weren't orthodox Jews by any means but my parents did keep a Kosher household. Up to my late teens I was always mixing up those darn meat and dairy dishes. My mom was continuously telling me that I had grabbed the wrong plate or fork. I'm not totally sure but I think in an orthodox Jewish household we would have had to break the plate and never use it again but at my place we just washed it. We got a third set of dishes after my grandmother passed away. Those would become our Passover dishes. Thus expanding the chances of me picking the wrong dish or utensil to use.
My parents also used many Yiddish phrases that I took to be general knowledge on everyone's part. I remember one of the first times I went to a friend's house for dinner. They were eating chicken and asked me what piece of chicken I wanted. I told them I wanted a polka and a fliggo (sp) (that's Yiddish for drumstick and wing). They looked at me like I had gone crazy and asked me the question again to which I gave the same answer. I finally had to point out the pieces I wanted which is when I learned the English names for them.
One thing I hated was going to Hebrew School three times a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays after regular school and on Sundays. We learned the Old Testament and how to read Hebrew so we could pray on the Sabbath. Every five years, give or take, the synagogue would get a new Rabbi. So I had many Rabbis and Rebbetzin (Rabbi's wife) who were my teachers. There was one Rabbi who played guitar and we learned lots of songs. There is one song that is sung every Sabbath to conclude services called Adon Olam. The guitar Rabbi showed us that it could be sung to just about any music. He taught us to sing it to the theme of Gilligan's Island. We loved that. That Rabbi also got us into learning how to read Hebrew proficiently by getting us involved in Hebrew speed reading contests. I excelled at those. One of my favourite Rabbis was the one who taught me what to say at my Bar Mitzvah. Like most rabbis who came to our synagogue this was his first gig and he was very young. He not only taught me my Bar Mitzvah but would give me a couple driving lessons to. I remember one Sunday I was the only person who showed up to Hebrew School so he took me Go-Karting. It was a blast. He would also let me have a drag off his cigarette once in awhile. (Well, maybe that wasn't such a good thing but to a teenager it was cool). On the Sabbath he would say the blessing for the wine after services. He had a big cup full of wine he held to make the blessing (for some reason it has to be filled to the top). He would say the prayer, take a sip then hand the cup to me to go dump. I would then go off to dump the wine but down it instead (hmm, beginning to see some insight into future alcohol problems I would face - but that's a different blog).
Once I entered high school my awareness of differences expanded. It was here that I found out that something called a cheeseburger existed. I grew up being taught to never mix milk and meat and so had never had a cheeseburger. I saw one in the school cafeteria and after one of my friends explained what it was I tried it and loved it. I would also find out that the majority of lasagnas were made with meat. My mom's, unbeknownst to me, was vegetarian. Although I still prefer her's. One thing I also can't stand today is having steak or roast beef with a glass of milk. It makes me cringe.
High school also brought dating. My final year of high school I finally got a girlfriend (she wasn't Jewish). My parents didn't freak out but I was told by mother, in no uncertain terms, that I wouldn't be able to marry the girl. (It would turn out that neither myself or my siblings would marry a Jewish person but my sister came the closest as she married a doctor). I remember one day my dad picked me up from work and told me that my mom was washing my pants and found an empty condom wrapper in one of the pockets. I was stunned and the only thing I could think of to say was, "which pocket?"
I didn't experience much antisemitism in the Shwa, The stuff I did experience was mostly from people who didn't even know what they were talking about, just repeating stuff they heard from their parents.
I guess growing up Jewish in the Shwa was pretty good.
Dave the Dude
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Godincidence
I used to be a pretty closed minded person. I went back and forth between calling myself an agnostic and atheist. To this day I still do not like organized religion. However, due to some life altering events and my membership in Alcoholics Anonymous my mind has become much more open.
Certain events that have occurred in my life I used to write off as coincidence. Today I would classify them as Godincidences or if that term bugs you than synchronicity as coined by Carl Jung (circa 1920s). When I got sober I looked back through my life. I remember one time stumbling home from a bar when I lived in Montreal and crossing some train tracks. I crossed the tracks and less than 10 seconds later a train went by. Another time in Montreal I was taking the escalators down from Concordia's pub on the 10th floor (I could be wrong about the floor but it was high up there in the building). I was sitting on the handrail of the escalator and started laughing. I leaned too far back and dropped off. I fell approximately 10 feet, missed a huge food cart by a couple feet and smashed my head on the hard floor. When I awoke there was a bunch of people leaning over me asking me if I was okay. I panicked and ran away - unscathed. Many such events occurred in my drinking career bringing to mind the saying, God looks after drunks and children.
Approximately two months after I got sober I was sitting in the Renascent treatment centre in Brooklin, Ontario. One of the problems I deal with in life is talking myself out of trying new things due to fear (I would later learn, through the 12 Steps, that fear was a big reason I self-medicated through drugs and alcohol). I was having a meeting with the counsellor assigned to me. He asked me what I planned to do in life. At that point I was 35-years-old. I told the counsellor that I wanted to do what he did but felt I was too old. He looked at me and said, "are you kidding? I'm 53 and this is my student placement." That conversation changed my life and I began making plans to return to school to study addictions counselling. I didn't have any money and wasn't sure what to do. I believed I would not be eligible for OSAP (student loan) because a couple years earlier I had declared personal bankruptcy. As was my pattern I was talking myself out of something out of fear of being rejected before I even tried. I ended up breaking that cycle and put in my application. I ended up receiving the loan. These events of synchronicity led me to get into an addictions program, carry out a placement at Renascent and eventually being hired by Renascent. After a couple years at Renascent the economy went bust and I was informed that my contract would not be renewed. The day I was told that information I sent out several resumes. Three hours later I received a call from Bellwood Health Services for an interview. I ended up getting the job and the start date was the Monday after my last Friday at Renascent. Again some would say the above events were coincidence but I beg to differ.
Eventually I ended up working an evening shift at Bellwood. The shift was 4:00 PM until midnight. As I'm ought to do I got into the habit of doing the same routine everyday. I was living with my Dad at the time. I would wake up in the morning, go to an AA meeting then head over to my girlfriend Indra's place until 3:00 PM then I'd drive to work. I carried out this routine for months,. One day the pattern was interrupted because Indra had an early appointment. I dropped Indra off at her appointment and found that I still had a few hours to kill before I had to go to work. So I went back home. I walked into my house to hear my Dad calling for help. He had suffered a stroke and had fallen down. I found him and called 911. I firmly believe that if my routine had not been altered that day and I didn't go home early he would have passed away that very day, stuck behind a toilet where he had collapsed. To me that is one big Godincidence.
As I continue my life's journey I am able to see more and more of these synchronized events. Just one of many things that keeps me on the path I have chosen.
Dave the Dude
Certain events that have occurred in my life I used to write off as coincidence. Today I would classify them as Godincidences or if that term bugs you than synchronicity as coined by Carl Jung (circa 1920s). When I got sober I looked back through my life. I remember one time stumbling home from a bar when I lived in Montreal and crossing some train tracks. I crossed the tracks and less than 10 seconds later a train went by. Another time in Montreal I was taking the escalators down from Concordia's pub on the 10th floor (I could be wrong about the floor but it was high up there in the building). I was sitting on the handrail of the escalator and started laughing. I leaned too far back and dropped off. I fell approximately 10 feet, missed a huge food cart by a couple feet and smashed my head on the hard floor. When I awoke there was a bunch of people leaning over me asking me if I was okay. I panicked and ran away - unscathed. Many such events occurred in my drinking career bringing to mind the saying, God looks after drunks and children.
Approximately two months after I got sober I was sitting in the Renascent treatment centre in Brooklin, Ontario. One of the problems I deal with in life is talking myself out of trying new things due to fear (I would later learn, through the 12 Steps, that fear was a big reason I self-medicated through drugs and alcohol). I was having a meeting with the counsellor assigned to me. He asked me what I planned to do in life. At that point I was 35-years-old. I told the counsellor that I wanted to do what he did but felt I was too old. He looked at me and said, "are you kidding? I'm 53 and this is my student placement." That conversation changed my life and I began making plans to return to school to study addictions counselling. I didn't have any money and wasn't sure what to do. I believed I would not be eligible for OSAP (student loan) because a couple years earlier I had declared personal bankruptcy. As was my pattern I was talking myself out of something out of fear of being rejected before I even tried. I ended up breaking that cycle and put in my application. I ended up receiving the loan. These events of synchronicity led me to get into an addictions program, carry out a placement at Renascent and eventually being hired by Renascent. After a couple years at Renascent the economy went bust and I was informed that my contract would not be renewed. The day I was told that information I sent out several resumes. Three hours later I received a call from Bellwood Health Services for an interview. I ended up getting the job and the start date was the Monday after my last Friday at Renascent. Again some would say the above events were coincidence but I beg to differ.
Eventually I ended up working an evening shift at Bellwood. The shift was 4:00 PM until midnight. As I'm ought to do I got into the habit of doing the same routine everyday. I was living with my Dad at the time. I would wake up in the morning, go to an AA meeting then head over to my girlfriend Indra's place until 3:00 PM then I'd drive to work. I carried out this routine for months,. One day the pattern was interrupted because Indra had an early appointment. I dropped Indra off at her appointment and found that I still had a few hours to kill before I had to go to work. So I went back home. I walked into my house to hear my Dad calling for help. He had suffered a stroke and had fallen down. I found him and called 911. I firmly believe that if my routine had not been altered that day and I didn't go home early he would have passed away that very day, stuck behind a toilet where he had collapsed. To me that is one big Godincidence.
As I continue my life's journey I am able to see more and more of these synchronized events. Just one of many things that keeps me on the path I have chosen.
Dave the Dude
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