The Only Way for us to Survive Climate Change is Stroopwafel…or Something

A bunch of years ago I’m driving down that Manchsexy section of 128 at dusk and inside my skull my brain yells, “Ostrich!”

Looking down the road I see the unmistakable shape of that large, flightless bird in the middle of the highway. “Meatpuppet, be aware, the object obstructing the road is an ostrich!” (my most distinct internal voice obnoxiously refers to the rest of me as “meatpuppet” and I wish it wouldn’t).

What happened next stuck in my memory, because it defined the way I and I think a lot of us deal with issues and threats considered “out of the norm”. From differing corners of my mind other opinions, not the “observation and reaction” part I consider my “brain”, but  a disparate chorus of doubts sparked up. It was like a busy channel on maritime radio, with different vessels reacting to the same scenario from unique perspectives. “Memory” reminded me I’ve never seen any similar thing on the highway before, insisting I look again. “Logic” recited Occam’s Razor, which states that if I see an ostrich in New England it’s statistically more likely to be a turkey and a trick of the light. “Guilt” reminded me of the time I did mushrooms in college, how it totally knew this would happen, hallucinating weird shit all over the place, even decades later, you stupid, stupid man.

“Meatpuppet, ignore these fools!” My actual “Brain” yelled, trying to override the cacophony. “That is an ostrich! I have searched memory, judged size against distance accounting for our forward velocity and I know what a fucking turkey looks like and this is not one. There is an ostrich in the road! Avoid collision and alert the authorities!”

“Maybe it’s, like…weird trees…” said “Imagination”.

Bob Ross lives in my head, apparently

For the record, it’s loud inside my head, pretty much all the time. But, also for the record, it turns out there was indeed an actual fucking ostrich (or a close cousin) in the road.  Somebody had been keeping emus over in West Gloucester, one got out and wandered onto the highway. In retrospect, this seems simple. But it was an impossible conclusion to resolve at the time. This is how most of us, myself included, deal with life. It’s a massive mental lift to face a new and unexpected set of facts, even in the face of overwhelming evidence. 

After Bomb Cyclone Grayson (alert aspiring DJs for solid potential name) we are having what social/economic/historical theorists call a Black Swan Event and which I call an “Ostrich Somewhere in the Vicinity of Exit 16 Event”. A Black Swan Event is something that should have been predictable, but no one accounted for and denied right up to the point it eventually changed history. Personal computers, the fall of the Soviet Union, the housing bubble crash and most notably 9/11 are all things that were, in hindsight, predictable but no one did anything appreciable about at the time in terms of preperation. Humans suck at acting on predictions, even good ones. We extrapolate the future from past experience because it used to serve as a pretty good guide when change was at a normal pace. But change now, including the climate, is not happening at a “normal” pace. Technology, income disparity and the climate are all hitting the metaphorical meth pipe and we’re going to have to learn to deal. Ostriches are on the road, my friends. EMUS ON METH! (alert aspiring speed metal bands…)

You go from this

To running down the street naked being chased by the cops

(from Wikipedia)

Black Swan events all share the same characteristics:

  1. The event is a surprise (to the observer)
  2. The event has a major effect
  3. After the first recorded instance of the event, it is rationalized by hindsight, as if it could have been expected; that is, the relevant data were available but unaccounted for in risk mitigation programs. The same is true for the personal perception by individuals.

Cars taken out by global warming. Ironic, no? But also transport to work, trips to the doctor, etc. We have to help these folks AND do better about sea level rise.

The worst thing about global climate change as Black Swan is an added 1a, which states: “A bunch of douchebags got Fox News to convince people it won’t happen, even while it’s happening all over the place.”

So here we are. Post Black Swan/Ostrich/Emu

What the fuck do we do now? (This has become a somewhat classic Clamquestion)

On Facebook, seeing all the pics I posted of the floods around Gloucester, an old friend of mine from the Netherlands messaged me:

Her: You need stormvloedkering

Me: ?

Her: Like weirs

Me: ??

Her: Barriers against the sea. We have them in Zeeland in our country. We also have decriminalized cannabis, pervasive cycling infrastructure and nationalized health care.

Me: But we had to save your butts in World War II.

Her: Yes. But you still need stormvloedkering. I’m sure someone here will show you the plans, in thanks for World War II.

The little tram is because Dutch people go to see it on holiday. When I went to Holland all my guidebook mentioned was weed and hookers.

So the Dutch are sassy, in a chill sort of way. But they also know how to hold back an angry sea. And that’s what this is, folks. The sea is pissed. For the first few centuries of our history Gloucesterites have been going out to face it, and now it’s coming to meet us at home.

And nobody is out ahead of this. Not the federal government, which as of this writing is too busy taking on the essential task of tweeting insults at itself to mitigate the potential destruction of a major population, cultural and economic center. Not our underfunded local government which is trying to manage a dozen full-blown crises at any given time on shoestring budgets. And not most of us citizens who are just trying to go about our lives, decidedly not thinking “how will global climate change be affecting my choice of parking spot/lunch meetup/pet shampoo?”

And that’s gotta change. On all levels. It’s up to us, folks. Running for city council Jen Holmgren said climate change was one of her top priorities, and I of all people counseled her to talk about issues closer to home. Three days into her term, Newell Stadium and Rocky Neck go under. Also the Mayor made climate change a key piece of her inauguration speech. As she was reciting it, on the stage, I noticed a few of the councilors rolling their eyes when she started talking dealing with climate challenges facing Gloucester. Roll them at your peril now, everyone is on blast for this issue after Grayson, me included. Clear?

Jen now, probably

We live by the sea. We’re going to have to get used to the fact that the very same sea is rising and getting more violent. It’s tempting to point fingers (see Black Swan rule 3), like blaming people for parking in a lot which hasn’t seen that kind of flooding in a century. This is not useful. In the same way as blaming the city for not knowing the lot would flood. The city is made up of people (shocker), they have access to the same prediction tools as the rest of us. Back to the classic Black Swan example: Someone in the government clearly should have insisted, “assholes with box cutters and Microsoft Flight Simulator could destroy the World Trade Center and damage the Pentagon”, but obviously no one was convincing enough in that prediction. And, to be honest, even if they were doing full body searches and spending tons of money on air marshals before that event, most of us air travelers would have been total dicks about the “unreasonable preparations for a highly unlikely circumstance” and complaining to our representatives and the media and probably writing snarky blog posts about it.  

So, I’m considering this the “wake up call”. There aren’t “we didn’t know” excuses from now on. We know. It’s happening. And this is not the kind of thing where we’re going to really get much wiggle room for divisiveness around. You are either on the stormvloedkering or off the stormvloedkering.

I think I got that right. Holy crap we are so behind on this.

Sergei II, The Re-sergi-ence

This morning finds both your humble Clameditors suffering not-insignificant hand injuries resulting from a drunken dare to  re-create of the “knife scene” in  the Sci-fi horror classic “Aliens.” Thus we give today’s The Clam over once  again to Sergei Nakhimov, Chief Warrant Officer Second Class of the Russian Federation submarine Vladikavakz. Sergei and crew have been stationed off Gloucester monitoring our communications for the past six months on a mysterious reconnaissance mission ordered by Russian president Vladimir Putin. He has recovered enough from One Direction member Zayn’s retirement to finally grace us with a new post.

Hello Clam humor blog persons! Is again I, your funny friend from under-the-sea who is not adorable singing lobster. Still we are stuck offshore your coast of Gloucester, still I am in communications room monitoring you signals and taking the quiz of Buzzfeed. Apparently ideal DJ name for me is “MC Ramp Dusky.” Okey Dokey!

This Ursula is my kind of babushka. I must go meet her.

This Ursula is my kind of babushka. I must go meet her.

Welcome to your summer Yankee dogs! I am hoping you have all feasted on traditional burned meats and salad of potato while wearing logo T-shirt of major corporation as is your custom. In Russia on day of remembrance of Great Patriotic War we dress up in best suit and watch military equipment parade and soldiers kick-marching in shiny boots. Of course, since President Putin is in power this is also how we celebrate Christmas, Mother’s Day, Agricultural Collective Awareness Day and Adopt a Pet Week.

From periscope of submarine I see you have attached many flag to your Stacey Boulevard adjacent to the sea that is my watery prison. I must say is many, many flag. This is something of America I don’t understand. You think if there is one good thing, then better is to have one hundred of good thing. And if one hundred is good then why not one thousand? You see where this goes, Da? At what point is too many flag? Ah, who am I kidding, you are American there is no such thing as “too many.” Point for you is to be able to say “I have more flag than you, face of jerk!” and not to worry when beautiful ocean-side walkway begins to look like more used car dealership in Parsippany New Jersey.

used-car-lot-flags-XJRe

Speaking of pastime, I see on Internet your favorite sport of padded steroid-eating concussion-men is in much trouble for letting air out of ball. This is something you talk endlessly about, for weeks on end. Constant discussion of this has raised anger of chief weapons officer Alexei who sometimes comes by communication bay to watch amusing cat video and to offer me his special drink mixture of refrigeration fluid and fermented beet juice he brew in forward toilet compartment. “Maybe I will turn their city into sea of fire and see how much shit they give about air in ball!” he mumbled a few days ago, holding up key around neck used to launch hydrogen bomb missile and stormed off toward his control station.

He is much kidder, Alexei! First mate and he had good laugh after he was able wrench key from Alexei’s hand and remove from control slot. “For future reference, use half as much refrigeration fluid,” I tell Alexei later when he comes out of coma.

Living in submarine for months with 56 other sailors is sometimes a great challenge for your friend Sergei. Sometime I would watch collectivist family of Duggars on TLC to make self feel better about being confined in small space with so many bodies smelling of sweat and borscht. Show always made Sergei feel happy because even though these many children were squashed together like last traincar out of Norolisk before winter, they always seem happy and are singing and making plays and schooling at home as is the way of your southern United States because they hate so much the fact of science that Jesus could not ride dinosaur.

Is total mystery why your southern states lag behind entire world in education

Is total mystery why your southern states lag behind entire world in education

books-baby-jesus-and-dinosaurs-full

But now we learn oldest boy Josh is terrible man and has been hurting sisters in gross way (Sergei always found him to be creepy like political officer on Boat who is former KGB). We also learn Josh went to lead something called “Family Research Council.” Sergei studied much science in high school and in Navy to become technical member of nuclear submarine crew. Sergei thinks whatever experiments Josh creep started in “family research” should be halted because his previous experiments are not good to nice girls in family. He is bad scientist of family. Very bad.

In sadness I suggest to Alexei we bomb Josh and maybe also father Jim Bob who is also makes Sergei taste herring pie from last night’s dinner in mouth, but Alexei only said “Worse for America if we let them live!” and then he laughed so many times. As I say, he is great kidder, Alexei.

On last topic, I see in provincial propaganda newspaper Gloucester Daily Times you have election coming. Two men must decide if they truly wish to challenge current unelected mayor who is may or maybe not going to go for voting and also has nickname that ties to gangs of criminal-types. My friends I must tell you this makes me so homesick! Tear comes to eye of Sergei. How I long for us to be heading home to Russia when I read of political situation in Gloucester.

Perhaps next time we talk I will be writing from my own small, cramped apartment in Soviet apartment block rather than small, cramped communication room of Soviet-built submarine. We can only hope! Until then Dosvedanya Tovarisch!

 

An Open Clampinion to the New Leadership of the GDT

It seems new leadership has come to the Gloucester Daily Times, or as we like it call it here: “The Cape Ann Cane Shaker”. We’re hard on the Times here but only because it’s been terrible. Think we’re being too harsh? Take this little example:

Back in April there was really sweet coverage of Rockport High School inducting 19 new members into the National Honor Society. This is both great and swell. Huzzah to the Rockport students inducted, nice going, all that. Oh, and by the way: There were also 39 students of Gloucester High School inducted. Why am I not linking to this story? Can you guess why? BECAUSE THERE WAS NO FUCKING STORY. This is par for the course.

The Gloucester Daily Times has become, at best, an intermittent news source on topics, educational (where we have a particular passion) and otherwise. For most of the declared snow emergency this winter it bizarrely featured not much more than artisanal pizza recipes on the front page and we had to go to the awesome Korey Curcuru in his living room for actual information about the storms, the parking bans, the DPW’s movements and other information essential to surviving the unprecedented weather events.

Let that sink in: Our paper of record was scooped during a time of crisis on a daily basis by a dude with a webcam in his living room.

I could go on. And on. And on and on and on. The reporting is spotty at best. We regularly get requests here at The Clam to go in depth on actual news stories because folks don’t know what’s happening in regard to essential issues. I am loath to have to keep reminding this, but The Clam is a satire-based snarkblog and if you know the right passwords the Internet’s leading HR Puffenstuff erotic fiction hub. We are not Journalists. It shouldn’t be up to us, for instance, to be the only only outlet that has published the reports regarding the possible uses of the Fuller School.

an amphitheater for robot gladiators? Yes, fine. Whatever. Just shut up and do it already.

an amphitheater for robot gladiators? Yes, fine. Whatever. Just shut up and do it already.

All this having been said, we’re hoping for a better GDT. A fresh start, as it were. So here are The Clam’s top suggestions for an improved Gloucester Daily Times since the opportunity seems to have arisen. Understand that there are years of pent up frustration tapping the keyboard right now, so if it seems overly harsh we’re sorry. But holy crap, do we need to even go into the 1-800 number we were supposed to call to get updates on the Mayoral race a couple of years ago rather than use, oh I don’t know, some kind of instant electronic transfer of information that might be available to 90+% of MA. Households?

  1. Your website is a crime against humanity I’m sorry, but it is. It is the spammiest, most obnoxious, hard to navigate site I go to on a regular basis. It’s crowded, you can’t tell what’s ad and what’s content, it auto-opens a second page to offer me more adcrap (which no one does anymore) and there is all this auto-generated filler from who-knows-where that clutters up the page. I know it’s a nightmare to make money from news websites these days, but this is not the way.
  2. Stop it with the Fuller/#Benghazi bullshit This is a huge peeve. There’s a notable stream in the general conversation about Gloucester which boils down to: “nominally-informed yelling to no practical end.”  The paper should not be contributing to this problem and the issue of the Fuller School is our leading nexus of same. We’ve covered it here. It’s gone way, way beyond the necessary evaluation of the management of Gloucester’s capital assets. It’s now a conspiracy theory mixed with an ancient grudge whisked into a batter of dumb and poured into the waffle iron of asshattery, served dry. The majority of us just want to know what’s next for Fuller, how can we best use it to the city’s advantage and don’t want to spend our time shoveling coal into the rage boilers. If nothing else, please read the reports by professional architects and engineers before writing any editorials. That would be a huge step forward.
  3. Every third LTE/editorial seems to be about how terrible technology is Oh man. Nothing demonstrates a “hip” and “with it” vibe to younger readers than columns and ceaseless editorials about how the so-called “smart” phones are making us all into drooling antisocial screen-zombies. There are weekly columns that sound like someone made Andy Rooney a key character in Blade Runner: “These flying cars everywhere make it so hard to fly kites and I don’t care for all these noisy replicants running around with the shooting and the yelling of ‘What is my incep date? How long do I live?’ How long till you shut up is more like it. Back in my day we didn’t have bio- soldiers and we fought wars on the Off World colonies the old fashioned way, with attack ships off of Orion…” OK, in retrospect that sounds totally awesome. But it’s lame as balls in the Gloucester Daily Times, take my word for it. Make your regular columnists stop doing this, I beg you.Slide1
  4. Math matters The current GDT has a numeric allergy. There is, for instance, a regular call from the editorial page to consolidate the elementary schools into one mega school for ‘savings.’ How much savings? What kind of outcomes should we expect? Hellooooo? Anybody in there? We see this all the time. Someone saying the schools have too many administrators. Do we? What’s the typical ratio for school districts like ours, especially ones that have outcomes we want to emulate? How are they structured? Differently? The same? It’s hard work, requires looking things up on the Internet and making calls but that is sort of the job. Even political races, which are inherently mathematical, have had no reporting of hard numbers or percentages. Microsoft Word has a table function. It would be awesome if you guys would use it.
  5. Very few people actually fish I know this seems weird to say, but the vast majority of people in Gloucester and especially on Cape Ann, do not. The industry is clearly a core issue, it’s our historical basis for being here, but sadly there are only a few hundred families that still make their living from the sea. My brother has been working on shellfish draggers for most of his working years (He’s moving to New Bedford if anybody knows a boat that needs a competent crew member, btw) and I know the life, but still: Most of the people here do not fish.
  6. Gloucester education is about more than sports Oh man, if I had to drink every time I saw a front page that featured an educational achievement by Rockport of Manchester/Essex students and an athletic one by Gloucester students…wait. I actually do that. Saturday we had a demonstration of amazing robotics, drones, 3D printers, artwork, song, drama, music and all kinds of stuff. Here is the front page of the GDT:
    So much sports...

    So much sports…

    There was a GDT photographer there, but the story is for some reason buried in the “News” section and third over in the slideshow up above, but even there the reference photo is not awesome robots but a mom (an awesome mom, by the way Hi Laurel!) and no clear image of Gloucester students who designed, coded and built all this tech without the reader having to go dig for it. But plain as day is Rockport’s honor roll. Way to go Rockport! You guys are awesome! What do you have for 3D printers over there? You have one of ours you borrowed? Oh…cool. Guess that didn’t make the papers.

  7.  We don’t really care about what goes on in Danvers, Beverly, Salem, Newburyport or effing Haverhill This is the last point, but if this consolidation is supposed to combine content from Salem, Beverly and Gloucester, don’t bother. A few years ago we got tons of stories from the Merrimack Valley which is like telling the hill tribespeople of Papua new Guinea about the Winnipeg public bus system. Simply, no one gives a shit.

So that’s it. Remember what Menken said about newspapers, that they are to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” Good luck!

KT’s Wicked Tuna Recap: North Vs South, Episode #5, “Ice Ice Tuna.”

We’re back with another recap of Wicked Tuna, North vs South. If you’re just tuning in, I recap this show so no one else has to watch it. It started off as kind of a dare – “Let’s watch a show about fishing in our town when I’ve never fished on a boat!” And now it’s kind of grown on me like some terrible Stockholm Syndrome where I kind of empathize with some of these folks. Mostly I don’t though, because I’m a sociopath. Anyway, continuing on!

We start off with a man screaming in a Southern drawl. I didn’t even need to type that sentence, I just imagine you all assume, correctly, that every episode starts like that. Let’s just skip that part next time. ‘WE’REJUST OUT HURR AND THE WIND’S LIKE 25, 35, AND WE’RE LOOKIN’ FOR GIANT BLUEFIN TUNA!” No fucking shit. And here I was, thinking this was a PBS special on whatever submersible Woods Hole is working on these days. Thank you for the clarification, good sir.

Anyway I can tell in advance that the entire freakin’ plotline of this episode is going to be based on some storm rolling in. One of the more well-spoken Southern gents explains to us about the inherent dangers of the ocean, and there’s a bunch of clouds in the trailer preview, so I’m guessing there will be more screaming and wacky camera angles than usual. They go on about how you can easily be knocked overboard by a wave and I’m like “arggh wear a lifejacket at least!”

That seems safe.

That seems safe.

 

Oh my god, the first “We need this fish bad!” And we’re 3 minutes into it. I aim to drink every time they say it. At this rate, with this episode, I may never actually make it to the Rhumbline to continue drinking.  I guess this is the Fishing Frenzy, they get the fish eventually, and emit a lot of unintelligible screaming in the process.

The Wahoo takes a look at the weather, realizes there’s no fish anyway, and says “fuck it” and heads to shore. This is a good and smart decision.

You know what’s weird in this show? No matter how little money they get for the fish or how small it is, they’re always SUPER EXCITED ABOUT HOW MUCH MONEY THEY JUST MADE. It must be some kind of weird contractual obligation.

Hooray. Don't scream until the camera pans away.

Hooray. Don’t scream until the camera pans away.

 

Over on Stonerboat, a Coast Guard plane does a couple of warning passes, and Tyler realizes they usually don’t just do that for shits and giggles (or maybe they do, I’m no nautical expert here). So, they head in. There’s a cool fast-motion shot of this huge-ass Cloud Of Pain and Snow rolling in.

promising

 

Fast forward to tomorrow! There’s tons of snow and ice and stuff from this storm! Oh, this makes working hard! The Hot Tuna keeps breaking through ice to get out of the harbor, but it gets real dramatic-like. “It’s super sketchy, I ain’t gonna lie!” You tell it like it is.

“We’re not gonna make it, man!” DUN DUN DUNNNN.

I expected the ending of Titanic, but instead they turn around and head back, and the first mate with the super long last name jumps out of the boat onto the dock and slips on the ice in a hilarious manner slightly off-camera. There’s nothing I like more than slapstick comedy where no one is seriously injured, so that made watching the rest of this hot mess worth it.

Dave Marciano goes on about how easy it is to sink boats and damage them by going out when they’re not supposed to, so they, too, stay in. I’m hoping at this point there’s just a big scene of everyone taking a snow day and going bowling because it would make this more palatable.

Over on Stonerboat, they say “We’re Gloucestermen! Let’s try it!” Which is what I’m going to yell every time I get drunk and do something stupid in the general downtown area (spoiler alert: this is often).

They get to the same spot where the Hot Tuna gave up and tucked tail for Pizza Bagels and Netflix, and Paul Hebert yells “It’s thicker than you think!” I chuckle, because I am twelve. They somehow actually manage to Ice Dance their way out of there, but other boats are more concerned with the old “not dying” trick, so they’re on their own for now. They go to a perfectly timed commercial break as it appears the boat is about to sink, but probably after we come back will turn out to only be a slightly rolling wave hitting it. Reality TV! Hooray!

Spoiler alert: THAT WAS ACTUALLY WHAT IT WAS. A SMALL WAVE BROKE OVER THE BOAT AND THEY SAID WOOHOO AND KEPT GOING. NAT GEO BILLED THIS LIKE DANGER WAS AFOOT.  THIS IS WHY I HATE REALITY TV SO MUCH.

Multitasking!

Multitasking!

The Wahoo, which I’ve by now realized contains the more well-spoken and less “shooting our guns indiscriminantly at the water” crew of the Southern boats, catches a fish. I think this is the only boat where they don’t need to use captions.

On the Hard Merchandise, the fantabulous world of double-entendres continues with Dave yelling “Pop ’em off! I don’t wanna lose my fingers!” Which is what all the boys say to me, or something. I’m pretty sure he also yells “you’re too far down in the gap!” But I can’t be sure. I need captions. “All packaged up like a nice Christmas sausage!” This can’t possibly be accidental.

In one of the final scenes, someone says “I hope the curtains match the carpet!” in regards to the inside of a fish.

The Pinwheel stays out kinda late, and almost has engine problems that would have left them dead in the water during a dangerous storm. Man, this is not an easy way to make a living.

Some boats make money. Others don’t.

Fin.

 

 

 

 

 

Hanukkah: It’s a Trap!

We all love the lobster pot Christmas tree down on Main Street. We love its whimsy, we love its humor and we love how it takes what’s special of the season and binds it together with the uniqueness of Gloucester.

Pic from  Good Morning Gloucester

Sadly the plan for the top to flip open and a nude Joey C to jump out was never realized

But what of Jews?

I mean, Jews love comedy, there are even a couple of Jewish comedians. What of seasonal whimsy? This is hard for the Chosen People because during the actual highest holidays on the Jewish Calendar there are downers like Yom Kippur where you’re supposed to be all self-reflective and stuff. You really can’t put an inflatable representation of your failings on your lawn without drawing some looks from the neighbors.

Although for most Americans, this pretty much covers it

For most Americans, this pretty much covers it

This leaves Hanukkah or Chanukah (however you spell it), but it’s almost always overshadowed by its younger, louder, drunker, uncomfortably domineering highly distant cousin, Christmas. Hanukkah, by contrast, is supposed to be sort of laid back.

No, seriously, a lot of people totally lose their fucking minds at Christmas. It can be disturbing as an outsider to watch, frankly.

But this year, over at Temple Ahavat Achim, we’re like, “Screw it, we’re doing whimsy as well.” So we built a lobster pot menorah. Yes, you read that right. Lobster. Pot Menorah. Oh, and before you think you’re all smart and shit, let me say this: No, lobster is not kosher TO EAT, we know that, thanks. That’s why there are no lobsters in any of the pots and no one is eating the menorah so get over yourself Smugly McLeviticus.

The ancient Kabbalist symbol for "Yay!"

The ancient Kabbalist symbol for “Yay!”

And the bait lasted for eight nights!

And the bait lasted for eight nights!

Here are some fun facts about the Lobster Pot Menorah:

  • At approximately 20’ high at its peak, the Gloucester lobster pot menorah stands as the tallest lobster pot menorah in the world.
  • Even though many members of the Temple have family in the film industry who could have created the menorah using computer generated imagery, a creative decision was made to use real lobster traps to lend an air of authenticity to the project.
  • A deli tray was provided for congregants helping to build the menorah along with both little muffins AND cookies because why choose?
  • Jews are stereotypically known to complain loudly about medical problems in a way that seems hypochondriacal to outsiders, but oy you lift those things up a ladder for five hours and tell me your back won’t hurt like a sonofabitch at the end.
  • Do the arms droop a little? They droop a little. Hey, it’s the first time we’ve done this, OK?
  • Temple Ahavat Achim now beats the White Rock South Surrey Jewish Community Centre of Vancouver for the largest single piece of Hanukkah kitch. Their 4’4” freestanding dreidel got nothing on us!
  • Other minority religions on Cape Ann, we’re looking at you! I personally am challenging the Buddhists of Cape Ann to create a lobster trap Dharmacakra for next year.

All in all a great time had by all. I’m sure you’ll hear much more about it in the days to come. Huge thanks to Mike, Phoebe, Paul, Martin, Miriam, Rabbi Lewis, Jeff, Judy and Marilyn. And the Pfizer Corporation, makers of Advil.