Category: Lifestyle

Supreme self confidence Few in history have had more chutzpah than General George Patton. According to a friend of mine whose father served in Patton’s Third Army during the Second World War, on the way to Germany the brazen general’s jeep stopped in front of some of his soldiers who were camouflaging their tanks. My friend’s dad was one of those soldiers. “What are you men doing?” the general asked. “We’re camouflaging our tanks,” the commanding officer replied. “Well take that (bleep) off,” Patton bellowed. “I want the damned Germans to see us coming!”

A judge was once asked about his definition of pornography “I’ll know it when I see it,” he said. The same could probably be said about chutzpah. No doubt lots of people have chutzpah — a Yiddish word that my dictionary defines as “supreme self-confidence” — including the famed attorney Alan Dershowitz, who wrote the book Chutzpah as well as the forewords to two of my own books.

Leo Rosten, in The Joys of Yiddish, describes chutzpah as gall, brazen nerve, effrontery, incredible guts, and “presumption plus arrogance such as no other word in any other language can do justice to.” So, although chutzpah is one of those words having no real translation to English, for instance, what we do know about chutzpah is that it can be a truly positive thing — kind of like the force in Star Wars — or an equally negative thing, depending upon who has it, and how it is used.

Dershowitz, who throughout his career has been a staunch defender of Israel and other just causes, has constantly exhibited the highest degree of integrity and, for lack of a better word, “chutzpah,” to make a positive difference in the world.

Others, of course, have tried to follow a similar enlightened path. Gandhi and Churchill didn’t care much for one another, but one thing they had in common was that indefinable ingredient: chutzpah. And whether you love him or hate him,

Donald Trump had the chutzpah to defy the odds and enter the presidential race and win. Truth be told, anyone who has the audacity to run for president has chutzpah.

Of course, when it comes to the “dark side,” you could say that Hitler also had chutzpah. So did Stalin, Saddam Hussein, and that guy in North Korea. Fortunately, our Founding Fathers, products of the enlightenment, had chutzpah as well. George Washington led a revolt against the British, a military juggernaut at the time. His friend, John Hancock, had the largest signature on the Declaration of Independence, basically signing his own death warrant for treason. Ben Franklin was well aware of that fact as the rebellion began to unravel.

“Either we hang together, or we will hang separately,” he famously said.

Then again, chutzpah is also present in the story of the man who, having killed his mother and father, throws himself on the mercy of the court — because he’s an orphan!

But the grand prize for chutzpah, I believe, has to go to the famed mathematician John Nash, subject of the Oscar-winning motion picture A Beautiful Mind. A scene was left out of the wonderful movie about the brilliant but psychotic Nash having to do with Nash’s relationship with a physics professor at Princeton when Nash was at the school as a first year mathematics student.

According to Sylvia Nasar, who wrote the book the movie was based on, Nash drove the professor nuts, regularly coming to his office and challenging him on his knowledge of physics. One day the professor had enough. “You’re a first year mathematics student,” the professor said, raising his voice. “Why do you always keep insinuating that you know more about physics than I do?” Nash persisted though, insisting he was right and the professor was wrong. John Nash certainly had chutzpah.

In days long past, people knew by the time a child was around five or six, whether or not the kid had all its marbles.

Imagine, continuing the marble thread, the normal one’s brain looked like a neatly set up game of Chinese checkers. Each marble precisely placed in its appointed spot, and the child did what she was told. Remember that old game, Mouse Trap? The one that looked like a Rube Goldberg contraption? (If you haven’t heard of him, Google him. So much fun.) Levers, flippers, scoops, and raceways had marbles flying everywhere. The child whose brain did that didn’t fit in very well. They disobeyed and explored forbidden places and thoughts. Was the child a genius or an idiot?

Depending on the village culture, the kid with the flying marbles didn’t fit in. If the child was simple-minded, but could be relied upon to complete easy tasks, then he was trained to do so. If the kid was a danger to others, too much of a burden, or just scared the townspeople, they disappeared.

You heard me. Oh, no one spoke about it. There are veiled references to such things in historical records, but stories survived about disabled or deformed newborns being left out in the woods for the wolves. Babies with problems were bad omens. Whacky behavior was a sign of stupidity. A story from an arcane entry in a church record tells of a child who couldn’t speak, made it to the age of six, but constantly pointed at the sky and screamed. Along came a period of non-stop rain that killed all the crops, and subsequently, most of the animals. Poor kid got blamed as being an evil spirit who brought the disaster. Yeah, he didn’t survive.

Seems barbaric, doesn’t it? Ah, but it turns out, during most of human history, we’ve rejected anyone who was differently abled. More modern times brought ways of locking away the disabled-from-birth kids, but they were still out of sight. Unless, of course, you were rich or powerful. It’s the same old story. People haven’t changed. If you were a member of what my one son calls the lucky sperm club, your chances of survival were way better.

Okay, okay. I get it. So far, this is not funny. See, I’m here to make sure you realize how good you’ve got it. It all makes me happy that my siblings and I were born in the 20th century.

I hate to think of how those middle ages villagers would have treated my siblings and me. We exhibited some pretty dopey behavior, and we weren’t rich.

We had a neighbor, who, I’m quite sure, wanted all six of us taken away somewhere. Had she been the head of an ancient village, my siblings and I would’ve disappeared, for sure. Her children behaved with decorum. They didn’t roll in the mud. They didn’t race bicycles downhill with no hands. They never fell out of trees. We were loud and boisterous. We made messy mud and leaf sandwiches in our pretend deli on the side porch and tried to sell them. Once, after witnessing my brother chasing my screaming sister around the yard — he was attempting to hit a bee, that had apparently decided it loved her, by whipping a rope at her as they ran — our neighbor ranted at my mother but good about her disgraceful progeny.

That brother is now a Ph.D. So, I wonder how many children, how many incredibly smart people, were discarded on the cutting-room floor of human history? I have to believe those villagers of old would’ve definitely left us in the woods. In days long past, people knew by the time a child was around five or six, whether or not the kid had all its marbles.

Is there anything more irresistible on a hot summer day than a cool and creamy ice cream cone? Not that you need another reason to indulge, but July is officially National Ice Cream Month and the third Sunday in July is National Ice Cream Day. The Ancient Greeks may have invented the first ice cream, a treat they made by mixing a combination of snow, fruit, and honey.

There are also historic accounts of ice cream being enjoyed in the Persian Empire, where snow from the winter was saved in underground chambers known as “yakchal.” A grape puree was poured over the saved snow. Later, the Quaker colonists brought us closer to the ice cream we know today. Sharing their recipes, they set up ice cream shops in New York during the colonial era. Though celebrating ice cream is a relatively new custom in America, the idea was first formally proposed in Joint Resolution 298 in May of 1984 by Senator Walter Dee Huddleston of Kentucky.

It did not take long before President Ronald Reagan signed the resolution; and, on July 15, 1984, a Presidential Proclamation designated that National Ice Cream Month would be celebrated annually in July. Other U.S. presidents have held ice cream in high esteem. Most notably, Dolly Madison, wife of President James Madison, had her own ice cream brand. Today, the ice cream and dairy industries are flourishing due to the revenue brought in by ice cream connoisseurs across the world. The ice cream industry

generates about $3.5 billion in annual sales. Famous ice cream chains include Ben and Jerry’s, Dairy Queen, and Carvel. In Palm Beach County, Kilwins and Sloan’s Ice Cream rank high among the favorites by locals and tourists. Most popular flavors are vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, and cookies and cream.

Novel non-traditional flavors include “Phish Food” at Ben and Jerry’s, “Banana Fudge Pie” at Kilwins, and “Minnie and Indy’s Fluffy Road” at Sloan’s. Whether deep-fried, dipped, sprinkled, or au natural, ice cream is one food that provokes smiles and a host of passionate responses.

“My favorite flavor is Chocolate Peanut Butter from Kilwins.” – Ali Naugle

“When I go to Kilwins, I love the shredded coconut flavor.” – Hannah Lebersfeld

“The ice cream flavor I like best is New York Super Fudge Chunk from Ben and Jerry’s.” – Jess Caplin

“I enjoy mint chocolate chip from Brendy’s because it is light and refreshing.” – Becca Freeman

Treat yourself to your favorite flavor on National Ice Cream Day, July 16. Ice Cream Fun Facts

• Vanilla holds steady as the most popular flavor.

• California produces more ice cream than any other state in the U.S.

• It takes about 50 licks to finish an average sized ice cream cone. What’s your flavor?

When the Florida sun beats down and the temperature reaches the 90s, you can thank a fella named Willis Carrier for the air conditioning that makes life in Florida bearable.

To a large extent, he’s why we can walk from our air-conditioned homes to our air-conditioned cars to our air-conditioned workplaces without being drenched in sweat.

Well, almost. On the hottest days, walking through a parking lot can soak a shirt or blouse. Even now, walking any distance in summer can cause my shirt to stick to me, and I must change shirts at least twice a day. When Hurricane Wilma struck in 2005, I had a brief taste of life without A/C. After just two days, when our bed sheets were wet with sweat, a friend took us in. And that was in October! Never mind the summer. All of this raises the question: How did people here stand it before air conditioning? Well, it was a different culture for sure. The constant heat was a reason stereotypical folks in Old Florida walked and talked more slowly than folks in the north. And the heat controlled a lot of what they did. Smart builders built homes with deep, overhanging eaves that extended far enough to shade the windows from the sun. High ceilings allowed heat to rise, making it slightly cooler below.

Opposing windows allowed the relief of a cross breeze through the house if there was a breeze at all. Smart folk, if they could, planted trees to the east and west of the house to offer shade from the arc of the sun. Some had “sleeping porches,”

A screened-in porch that might have been cooler with just the slightest nighttime breeze. (In big city apartment buildings – New York and Chicago – people slept outside on fire escapes.) There are accounts, if they’re true, of folks hanging wet clothes in doorways on the theory that air blowing through them would have a cooling effect. It’s said that some who had refrigerators first would put bed sheets or even underwear in the refrigerator to cool them. The heat was a reason some folks took midday naps, to escape the hottest part of the day. By any measure, life in the heat of the summer must have been just miserable. You can imagine that many Floridians were, shall I say, pretty stinky. The heat created a culture that’s been long gone – one that might have brought neighbors closer together, at least to know each other. You might call them “porch people” who sat on their porch to escape the stifling and stuffy heat inside.

A lot of family business was done on the porch, and, by golly, it’s widely reported that people actually talked to others nearby and those just passing by. A lot of music was played and heard from those porches. Those of us born post-A/C have no cause to even think about Florida life before then. The fellow I mentioned – Willis Carrier – created a functioning air conditioner of some kind back in 1902, but it wasn’t until 1951 when window A/C units were introduced. Central air conditioning systems came along in the ’60s. (Movie theaters were sometimes the first place in town to have it, so people fled to the movies just to keep cool.) It was about 1970 when a majority of Florida homes

became air-conditioned, and the Florida population soared. In 1950, the population here was 2.7 million. By 1960, with some air conditioning, the population increased to 4.9 million. In the ’70s more homes had “central air” and the population grew to about 19 million today. Today’s Florida is possible only because of air conditioning. Without it, we’d all be likely wearing sweaty T-shirts and sitting on a porch at night, hoping to catch a slight breeze. More likely, we wouldn’t be here.

Had Willis Carrier not done what he did, someone else most likely would have figured out the engineering, but who knows when? So when I turn on the A/C these days, I might think of Willis. And I won’t have to go searching for the slightest breeze.

The secrets to happiness are within the reach of almost everyone. Incorporate the habits, practices, and ways of thinking about the world that happy people use. Beware of the myths associated with happiness. Not gender, age, social, or marital status alone makes one happy.

Stress and pressures of life have negative effects on mood and behavior. They can even lead to heart attack, stroke, or depression. Positive feelings correlate with living longer and having more fun along the way. Randy Larsen and David Buss, chairmen of the Washington University Department of Psychology, co-wrote a textbook called Personality Psychology. They suggest getting in touch with the happiest times of your day, week, or month. Is it playing golf, having dinner with friends, or volunteering at an animal shelter? Try to do more of the things in your life that bring you joy. Here are a few suggestions to increase your happiness. • Just think of how lucky we are living the U.S., rather than the Middle East or somewhere else. We already have it made in terms of the opportunities in this country.

• Try to behave like an extrovert, even though it is not your disposition. Create opportunities to be social. Compliment a person at the grocery store, say hello to someone at a bus stop and have a five-minute conversation.

• Find a new outlet for energy. Clean out your closet or take a walk in a park you never visited. Try learning a new language. Walk on the beach at sunset and have dinner in a new restaurant. If you only read a certain class of book, try something new – an espionage novel or historical biography. Visit a place you haven’t been, somewhere local would be perfect for a weekend getaway.

• Have a few friends write down the five happiest days or nights of their lives. What did you think at that time and how has your perspective changed from the past to now? Get together and discuss it.

• Drop the habits of neurotic people, don’t complain. Be a listening ear for someone else and cheer up a friend who needs it.

• Don’t dwell on a problem or jump to a worst case scenario. We all spend too much time worrying about things that never happen. Keep things in perspective. • Try to find humor in a problem or even laugh at yourself.

• Decide to dwell on what is positive about your life. Before bed, make a short list of ten things you are grateful for today.

In time, that list will grow.

Life is short, and as long as you’re not hurting anyone else, do what makes you happy. But some wedding attire trends might make me change my lifelong motto. There are some things you cannot ‘unsee’ and therefore, permanent damage to one’s ability to believe in common sense is a distinct possibility. It’s not fair to invite unsuspecting folks to your nuptials, then make them watch a spectacle that will give them nightmares. If you’re going to do something bizarro, give the invitees a heads up, so they can politely craft an excuse to miss it. I thought I’d heard of everything when it came to weddings. Nope. Turns out, if you don’t keep up, the ever-increasing onslaught of weird news will run right by.

The most stomach-churning ones, to me, are the naked or nearly naked, bridal parties. The very idea gives me hives. That said, if it’s taking place at a nudist colony or nude beach, well then, anybody attending already knows what’s exposed, so those don’t count. Naked wedding parties are similar to the disappointment of going to a nude beach, because most who option out of clothing aren’t the ones we want to see in their birthday suits. From the pictures I’ve seen (my retinas will never be the same), the people who get naked-hitched aren’t exactly good-looking. That’s fine. I’m not passing judgment, I swear. But, gee golly willikers Bob, give the witnesses a choice. If invited, chances are they know the bride and/or groom and possibly much of the bridal party. They can calculate in advance how much alcohol to drink before arriving, or decide to be busy that day. I wonder if one such group knows their picture is on the first page of search results.

The bridesmaids wore G-strings and garterbelted stockings, stilettos, and red glittery pasties over their boobs. The groomsmen wore short-shorts and top hats. The generously sized bride and groom wore less than their attendants. And tattoos in the most interesting places. Not that there’s anything wrong with permanently coloring your body if that’s what you want to do. But making the rest of us aware of intimate details we really don’t want to know is just plain mean. Like the one bridesmaid who had the word “lefty” on her left breast, and “ritey” on her right breast. Yes, the tattoo artist got it wrong. Where I came from, if you could see the bride’s bra strap, it was an embarrassment. Of course, I’m from a tiny Mayberry-ish town in New Jersey.

Now I live in South Florida, and I should be used to anything and everything, but yikes. There was an expectant bride who was apparently very excited about the impending birth of her child because she wore a gown with a big hole cut out in the middle for her naked baby bump to protrude through. Another wore a topless gown to show off her enormous ta-tas, which had sequined white pasties over them. I do not understand this. I remember my father and my grandparents lamenting the new generation and the way they did things. I thought they were hopelessly old-fashioned. Jeez, maybe I’m just getting old.