South Africa

I'm afraid it would reflect poorly on me if after spending two weeks in South Africa the only thing I blogged about were stupid American cashiers. So let me tell you some essential information about South Africa.
Instead of saying You're Welcome they say Pleasure. I assume the "my" is implied, or else perhaps it is simply a command.
They eat a lot of meat there. A typical menu will simply have a meat section where you can order the type of cut and the sauce. You can have sirloin, filet, rump, etc. And they often have multiple sizes. You can have the 200 gram rump or the 400 gram rump.
They have Appletizer. It is carbonated apple juice, and it is wonderful. It is hard to say it without laughing. There is also Grapetizer, but it is not quite as good.
Coloured is still used there to describe people who are born from one white parent and one black parent.

Cashier Improvement Zone

I may have to start a new blog called Idiot Cashiers and How They Tick Me Off. Here's the background. There is a window in my shower. It is no secret. And until recently it was not a big deal, because nobody really had an angle to see in, the window would only allow an outsider a waist up view, and I have a big enough ego that anyone spying on me could only be viewed as flattery. But there is yet another new building going up in our backyard (was supposed to be condos, but now may be rentals), giving the constructions workers, and soon the residents, a quite proper view into my shower. So the time has come to somehow obstruct the view, and I went to Urban Outfitters in search of a hip solution.
Now for the idiot cashier of the day. Normally I use my credit card for everything to avoid accumulating change (which accumulates on its own, like dust), but my purchase was 3.17 and it just seemed in appropriate to not use cash. I gave the cashier a 10 dollar bill and a quarter, which most sane and reasonable people in the universe will recognize as a change saving measure. The cashier gave me back 6 bucks and a load of change. I thought she had forgotten about the quarter, so I reminded her "I gave you a quarter." She said "No, you gave me a nickel." Well, that sent me through the roof. I briefly considered whether there was any chance in hell that I had a nickel in my pocket, and the answer was a resounding not in a million fucking years. But I was stuck. I asked her why in the hell I would have given her a nickel. She said she didn't know. Of course she doesn't. You'd think as a cashier she would first of all recognize what kind of currency she is given, and second, that when someone gives her some change that doesn't make a bit of sense, she should say something. Well, she said she'd have to get the manager to open the drawer back up. And despite what you may think after reading this entire post about the most trivial thing in the world, I have graduated from the time in my life when I would have pushed that issue. The new me knows that these daily stresses are best abandoned and forgotten as quickly as possible, so I just glared at her and walked away, and when the greeter wished me a pleasant day I glared at him, too. Then I wrote it all up right here so I would never forget that Urban Outfitters employs a bunch of dweebs.

Der oylam is a goylem

What is wrong with you Tamaveters; using other people's names on this blog! This is not a drunk-tank! Behave accordingly.

On a different note, I refuse to RSVP to the wedding of the 1994 Shaarey Zedek Kiddish Cup Champion until you Alter boks start blogging. I feel like I'm looking for the afikomen all by myself. What's up with that? Maybe we should invite Mazarin and Z to join in the fun.

censorship

Vigilant re-readers of this blog may notice that we've modified some old posts and begun to censor ourselves. No one regrets this more than I.

Thousands of years ago, I was the editor of and sole contributor to a youth group newsletter. My articles centered on the sale and consumption of crack, and on the deviant sexual behaviors of our group members and advisors. One day I wrote a particularly hard-hitting article about a gunshot fetus. It probably deserved a Pulitzer, but my group's president was not ready for the truth--did not believe his constituents were entitled to it--was afraid of what real reportage would do to his reputation and career. He censored me, then, and our friendship never recovered.

We kibbitzers believe that our readers deserve the truth. Please trust that all censorship is done in the interest of maintaining our and our friends' privacy: it is not done from cowardice. Oh, no! Like W.E.B. Du Bois, we kibbitzers cry truths at an ugly and uncomprehending world; and we will call no one "friend" who will not stand and cry with us.

All modified posts include the label "censored."

Gift Ideas for Howl's Wedding

1. a tub of KY Jelly
2. a kiddish cup inscribed with "Baruch"
3. Risk, the board game
4. a tub of chrain
5. a haman purim costume (w/ a grager)
6. A sedur
7. A recording of Yatzi singing the amidah
8. A lock of D. A.'s hair
9. A picture of Matitiyahu
10. A statue of B. D.

Compassionate Slaughter

I recently finished Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food, which I liked as much as Omnivore's Dilemma. Not surprising since they're almost the same book. For those wanting to find good local food from farms, he made a footnote about eatwild.com so I checked it out. I'd like to test the idea that food from animals raised properly taste better, and would love to buy half a cow from one of these places and have a barbecue.
But as much as I like the site and admire the farmers, I can't help but laugh at one particular blurb from Old Pine Farm in Michigan:
"We support the Humane Farming Association and are very compassionate about our animals, and particularly their slaughter."
Later today I'm going to compassionately kick the shit out of the guy stealing my mail.

Chabad House of Ann Arbor

I did not know that the Chabad house of Ann Arbor has a community mikvah and that is available for use by the Jewish community. The mikwah employs a filtering pool heating system and is the only such facility between Detroit and Chicago. A nominal donation is asked of occasional users. The women of Mikvah Israel act as shomerot (assistants) for those women desiring to use the mikvah. I am curious if shomerot are available for men who desire to use the mikvah. I wonder if an extra "nominal donation" is suggested if you were to request assistance from a shomerot. Have any of you ever visited a mikvah?

L. Z.

I am a man truely humbled. At 60 years old, L. Z. beat me in the Dexter - Ann Arbor half marathon yestarday by 21 minutes. He finished 7th in his age group out of 48 participants. What a guy! I still think I could beat J. Z.

Mathematics Education

(Overheard on the bus)

Woman: When is the next World Cup?

Man: 2010.

W: How often do World Cups occur?

M: Every 4 years.

W: When was the last one?

M: I have no idea.