OyChicago blog

According to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs website, Veterans Day is a “celebration to honor America's veterans for their patriotism, love of country, and willingness to serve and sacrifice for the common good.” It was originally called Armistice Day because it marked the anniversary of armistice signed for World War I, which went into effect at the eleventh hour on the eleventh day of the eleventh month in the year 1918. This is a day we humbly offer up thanks and gratitude to this nation’s veterans.

Yes, we should post on Facebook and Twitter and all forms of social media that we salute our soldiers. Let’s use the official hashtag, #honoringvets, when we do. There is something very American about taking to the simplest and most convenient forms of technology to show our widespread support for a cause. I also don’t believe we even need to apologize for its perceived triteness.

I also happen to believe that turning to social media as the method to mark the holiday, is simply not enough. I urge us to take a moment at some point today and reflect on what it means to serve in the military. What would it mean for to leave behind family, friends and country to protect all that we hold dear? Have we ever taken the time to really think about it? Have we ever gone out of our way to thank a veteran? Have we ever marked this day in any way beyond taking a day off of work and saving 30 percent off of a great pair of shoes?

This day has been designated as an opportunity to do more than usual in order to show how much we appreciate those who have served. Many, if not all, of us have a friend or family member that has served or currently serves in the military. Let’s not miss the chance to show them we honor their commitment to keep us safe.

In this week's portion, Vayetzeh, we find one of most intriguing love stories in the Bible. Jacob lays eyes on Rachel for the first time (yes she was his first cousin; no that wasn't weird at the time), and knows that they're meant to be together. He immediately proceeds to water her flocks for her, and lets her know who he is and his relationship to her. After a month of serving in her father Laban's house, he is asked what his desired wages are. He says that he'd be willing to work seven years for the privilege of marrying her. Laban agrees to the deal, and the Torah tells us that those seven years "seemed for him but a few days because of his love for her."

As most love stories do, this one has a bit of an interesting twist. When the time comes to marry Rachel, his uncle throws a feast and ultimately tricks Jacob by having him marry Rachel's older sister, Leah (setting Leah up for a lifetime of feeling disappointed and unloved by her husband, given his passion for her sister). Laban tells Jacob that he can also have Rachel as a wife (as soon as next week!), provided Jacob agrees to work another seven years. Jacob agrees to these news terms, and a week later, Rachel becomes his second wife (with two concubines to shortly follow - quite the family unit!).

Ultimately, Jacob has to work for 14 years in order to marry Rachel (seven before marrying her, and seven after).

Granted, Biblical years and contemporary years don't always match up (Biblical lifespans were just a bit longer than ours today…), but the amount of work that Jacob was willing to do in order to "earn" the right to marry Rachel is truly incredible.

As we all know, relationships are hard work. Most of us don't necessarily think of manual labor (or shepherding) as constituting such work, but it's a meaningful metaphor for us to learn from. Jacob models for us the fact that we should be willing to work our butts off, over an extended period of time, for those we love. For some, this means investing in their relationships and deepening self-understanding, putting personal dreams on hold for the benefit of your family, and/or simply doing what needs to get done in order to put food on the table. For others, such as our military families who are often apart from their loved ones for months at a time, hard work for love takes on a similarly powerful meaning.

This Shabbat, reflect on the lengths you would go to for love. Are you being healthily selfless when called upon to be such in your relationships? Are you willing/able to put the happiness and well-being of others ahead of your own? Where do you draw the line and why? 

Dear doughnuts,

My, what a great 23 or so years it has been. We have had a great run together … and though it pains me to do this, I must send you my official farewell.

We first met when I was a young child. I liked you right away. When the other kids were spending time with brownies or cookies, you were my first love. When my friends blew out candles on a birthday cake each year, my birthday wishes were granted over one of you—one big candle stuck into a black and white swirled frosted doughnut. And my wish always came true.

As the years went on, I got to know your children, the Munchkins. They traveled to school with me in a big cardboard box with handles each time I had an event to celebrate—a birthday, Chanukah, the end of the school year. Powdered, jelly-filled, glazed, or chocolate, I loved your little ones with all my heart. Any time I brought them, I was instantly the most popular kid in the class.

And so it was through my adolescence—a happy, loving relationship. But then it began to turn sour.

In high school, the choir, the dance group, the swim team, and the sophomore class seemed to all gather together to decide on the same fundraiser: Selling a dozen Krispy Kremes for $5. How could I not support those clubs trying to earn money? So I bought your friends and brought them home. And ate one. Or two. Or two and a half. And then a half, but a few hours later.

My stomach, though, didn’t love the idea. It punished me by making me feel full yet hollow, greasy and gross.

Knowing myself and knowing my body, I knew that I could never eat just one of those perfectly glazed three-bite treats. So, later in my high school career, I promised myself that I would stop eating Krispy Kremes. And I have lived up to my word.

But others of your kind were different. Those were no big deal. Still delicious, still hit the spot. Especially your friend Entenmann that comes with the little crumbly toppings.

I wouldn’t go out of my way to buy one of you. But working in an office where people put out food in the kitchenette five feet away from my office, it has occasionally happened that I’d sneak away with a half of one of you. Or a full one. Or two. And every time, you make me feel gross. Worthless. Like I have to purchase an elliptical and a treadmill and one of those rowing machines and use them all day long in order to feel like myself again.

So, my dear doughnuts, I have made a decision today. With all of the readers of my blog as my witness, I will never again eat one of your kind. I’ve mistaken love for lust, and it just isn’t worth the pain.

You ask if there’s someone else—well … actually … there is. Ice cream doesn’t hurt me like you do. Neither do cookies, brownies, blondies, yogurt, cheesecakes, pies, chocolate-covered cashews, gelato, milkshakes, pudding, chocolate mousse cake, or red velvet Oreo truffle brownie bars. They respect me for who I am and don’t make me feel awful.

I wish we could have done this goodbye in person; but it would have been too painful. I wish you the best of luck with other people. I will always cherish our memories and I will never ever forget you.

Yours one last time,
Lia

P.S. Can you give me chocolate mousse cake’s phone number?

If you are reading this post expecting a secret recipe to drop weight fast in advance of the holidays, you are out of luck. The truth is there is no magic bullet (for weight loss) or supplement to melt a few pounds off your belly. However, you do not have to starve yourself or workout for hours on end to escape the holiday bulge.

Starting at Halloween, and continuing until Jan. 1, candy flows like ragweed (it’s a bad year for those of us with allergies). People don’t want their kids to eat 20 pounds of candy, so it’s in the office. And then the guy who lives at the end of the block, but buys candy just in case, brings in his Costco bag of M&Ms.

All this sugary goodness is too much for anyone to handle. If you are human, something will call your name and you will be powerless to avoid it. Here are some tips to eat less candy:

1. Give away, hide, or throw away leftovers.

2. Pick your favorite and have one “fun size” treat and move on.

3. Be strategic: don’t walk past the pile of chocolate when you are hungry.

4. Combat crap with cut-up fruit and veggies.

5. If you over-indulge, move on—literally. Take a quick run up the steps, burn some calories and then let it go

6. Don’t feel guilty saying “NO” to the office sugar-pusher. “I baked this from scratch, it took me eight hours,” they’ll say. Well, sugar-pusher, it’s called a bakery—open one up and sell your deliciousness there. In college there is peer pressure to drink, in the office there’s pressure to eat. And then later in life it’s pressure to take fish oil.

We all fall off the healthy wagon. Don’t worry about it; worrying only makes things worse. Yes, worrying can make you gain weight. I won’t get into the science, but if you ever watch late-night television, someone is always selling a pill to reduce your levels of cortisol. Balance your stress levels the old fashion way: exercise, meditate, read, have fun, and be better tomorrow.

Of course if tomorrow is a holiday party, you might be in trouble. Holiday parties usually mean two things: excess food and excess booze. Both are sworn enemies of skinny. Plan for the parties and you will survive. Be the person that brings the hummus plate with veggies, bakes a chicken dish, or brings fruit for dessert. Sure, people will give you a dirty look, but everyone wants to eat more veggies and fruit. I also recommend eating before you go to parties. Don’t eat a huge meal, but combine some healthy veggies with some of these things pictured below:

Picture courtesy of www.strengthguild.com

Drinking alcohol, a.k.a. liquid calories, kills a diet faster than Halloween candy. Beer is probably the worst, but wine and vodka are not far behind. Have a drink or two.

Check here for a list of a few common drinks and their caloric damage.

I promise you can still have fun and enjoy great food while following these easy suggestions. If you have any great holiday health strategies, please comment below. Have a great holiday season!

I grew up in a town that was 85 percent Jewish. Every summer I attended a camp that was 95 percent Jewish. Then I went to a college where I lived in a dorm that virtually emptied during the High Holidays. Despite these being rough estimates, I think it’s safe to say I live in the Jewish Bubble.

That is until I moved to D.C. Now, I’m sure there are plenty of Jews here, I just happen not to know any of them. The people I’ve met/befriended are from very different walks of life and, for some, I’m the first Jew they’ve ever met. Talk about a 180. I would be lying if I said living outside the bubble wasn’t weird.

A few days ago I was out with some of these new friends when one made a comment that struck me. She said her parents didn’t want her attending a certain college because they didn’t want her marrying a Jew. She immediately knew what she had said was offensive.

I think I should have been more offended, but for some reason I wasn’t. Maybe it was because for the first time I was shocked to realize how very far out of my comfort zone I was, or maybe it was because on some level I wasn’t sure I disagreed with her. Do Jewish parents want their children marrying out of the religion either? I immediately changed the topic.

But the statement lingered with me. The more I thought about it the more confused I became on how I felt about it. Maybe Jewish parents don’t want their children marrying out of the religion, but is their reasoning the same as my friend’s parents?

The Jewish Bubble doesn’t really prepare you for life outside of it. It gives you no indication about how different people are or how different their views are. I would be lying if I said living outside the bubble wasn’t weird. But, I would also be lying if I said it didn’t open my eyes.

I missed the Animorphs series the first time around. Man, in the ‘90s, you saw those book covers everywhere you went: one kid transitioning into a fly or a bear or a dolphin or some other creature. And there were always two tons of them, right? They were just a little young for me when they started coming out (or I might have been too invested in showing off that I was reading Watership Down instead), but, uh…

I’m reading them now.

I’m kind of hooked.

There are some stories that, no matter how dodgy the premise, I will always inhale. Animal transformation is one of them. When I was six, my fondest wish was to be a were-rat, thanks to a healthy diet of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Mrs. Frisby & The Rats of NIMH. My hometown used to have the best video store imaginable (RIP, Magic Video), and in addition to helping me discover obscure foreign costume dramas, I also became obsessed with the The Shaggy Dog and The Shaggy D.A., old Disney movies about a boy (and later a district attorney) who’s cursed by an ancient Egyptian ring to become a sheepdog at inconvenient times. A good werewolf story? I’m always in.

Animorphs should have been right up my alley, but nobody ever told me what they were actually about, and I was quite content at the time with the Redwall books, another talking animal series of my heart.

But let me talk for a minute about Animorphs, if I’m not repeating something you already know. The basic premise carries more than a whiff of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Five friends find a UFO crash with a dying alien inside, who gives them the power to morph into any animal they touch, in order to fight an imperialist race of parasitic aliens called Yeerks. So, kids saving the world plus paranoia about grownups plus awesome superpowers—why wouldn’t kids eat this up?

We know, however, that if that were it, no one would really care. But our heroes have problems, one of which is that you can’t stay in your morph for more than two hours. Otherwise you get stuck, and there’s no going back. (Three guesses as to whether this becomes a plot point!) Beyond the prospect of Earth being colonized by a vicious race of slug creatures, the Animorphs have human problems too. One kid lost his mother two years ago. Another deals with bullies. Another can’t figure out why her best friend won’t talk to her anymore.

The author (or many authors; it should come as no surprise that a franchise this successful and prolific has ghostwriters) does some neat characterization things too. The “girliest” character, the one who loves shopping and looking pretty, is also the battle-ready bruiser of the group; her favorite morph is an elephant. This girl could have been pigeonholed so easily as dainty, or scared, or vain. So many of my friends describe these books as “formative;” I’d much prefer that a kid’s formative experience tells her that she can be any combination of likes and qualities that she wants than that she be pigeonholed into lazy, poisonous “types” that we shouldn’t question.

Not only that, but the whole horror of the Yeerks stems from the way they replace and repress identity. If you’ve got a Yeerk slug in your brain, you’re still trapped alongside it, a bystander to what this evil being does with your body, your voice and your face. Pick your metaphor: kids (and the adults they become) understand what Yeerks are, and they remember the hardship—and the heroism—of standing up to them.

I also really like what these books do about depicting animals. It’s not Disney: animals aren’t just humans with four legs. This summer, at one of the farmer’s markets at Daley Plaza, a representative from the forest preserve brought in a rescued hawk to help educate passersby about Illinois wildlife.

“What’s his name?” I asked, then hesitated. “Her name?”

“We don’t name our animals, because wild animals aren’t people and they aren’t pets,” the ranger said. “We want kids especially to understand that animals exist independently of us and inhabit an entirely different world apart from us.”

Animorphs tackles that well, I think. Yeah, the kids are still themselves when they change, but they also have to cope with different instincts in different bodies. Other animals don’t talk to them or give them advice or form relationships with them. It’s a remarkably unsentimental and powerful statement, really. These animals are themselves, not something you try to impose on them.

I’m not that far into the series, though I’ve been warned that “the last 15 or 20 books decline significantly.” (I love that we have to disclose on a scale of dozens of books. That’s awesome.) But you see why I’m hooked—and the danger’s even greater with my midterm work piling up. Because, let’s face it: in addition to all the stuff I’ve just said, these books are fun. The stakes are high, the group dynamics are great, the kids are real—it’s just fun reading, and you don’t really need more justification than that.

That said, these big questions aren’t new, and it’s not weird to address them through a conceit like transformation. Ovid did it pretty well, and we’re still reading his Metamorphoses two thousand years later. So, reflecting on another Halloween gone by, a day that’s dedicated to letting your freak flag fly, here’s a reminder to read what you like, get what you want from it, and be who you’re supposed to be.

“The movie is never as good as the book.”

Sigh.

I’ve been hearing this for years, and as a huge fan of movies, it’s frustrating. To me, that phrase is about as cliché as “never judge a book by its cover.” Some books can be judged accurately by their covers, just as some movies honor the book on which they’re based.

With the long-awaited film adaptation of Orson Scott Card’s contemporary sci-fi classic Ender’s Game in theaters this weekend, I’m bracing to hear those words a lot. Published in the ‘80s, the book was long-considered un-filmable. It combines gravity-defying action with a coming-of-age story with elements of a political thriller – and a lot happens on a computer screen. Even though the reviews have leaned positive so far, for some, filmmaker Gavin Hood’s interpretation will never measure up to their expectations.

My friend and fellow Oy!Chicago blogger Lia perfectly sums up people's unrealistic expectations of movies adaptations of books in a blog post she wrote when fans of The Hunger Games were voicing their disappointment with certain aspects of the film. If a book were committed to film exactly as it is on the page (or even close to that way), you would be bored out of your freaking mind and hate it. I promise. And no movie is going to turn out exactly as you imagined the book to be – you didn’t direct it.

Back when I was first able to read and could enjoy a book that actually had a movie version, I held the movie accountable for most everything in the book – and I was frequently disappointed.

In third grade, for example, we read Roald Dahl’s James and the Giant Peach in class. When we discovered that the movie version would be coming out just months later, we begged for a field trip to see it and our teachers gave in. We were ecstatic! We couldn’t wait to see our favorite parts come to life. Many of us especially loved the chapter when the giant peach flies through the sky and crosses paths with the Cloud-Men, creatures who control the weather, and James and his insect friends instigate a little fight.

Nothing could temper the excitement of being in a movie theater with dozens of our classmates – except that as we watched the movie, we waited and waited only to never see any Cloud-Men. This treachery was utterly devastating to our 9-year-old imaginations, which longed to see the Cloud-Men brought to life. Why would they leave out the best part?

Nearly 20 years and hundreds of movies later, I can actually tell you why. I don’t think it would’ve been practical for Henry Selick, director of The Nightmare Before Christmas, who made this film by slowly moving solid clay figurines a millimeter at a time, to film a sequence in which a peach flies through the air and gets attacked by ghost-like Cloud-Men. Today, it definitely would have been easier to do with the help of some digital effects shots, but not in the early ‘90s.

We are lucky to live in an age when digital effects can help bridge the gap between what’s on the page and what turns up on screen. Movies are no longer as limited by what is or isn’t possible when adapting a book into a movie. This explains – visually at least – why movie versions have done books justice more often than they did before the 21st Century.

Consequently, movies and television continue to increase books’ popularity and vice-versa. The Hunger Games, Twilight, Game of Thrones – people are happy to consume their favorite story in every form possible. And everyone has their own best practices: they refuse to watch the movie if they’ve read the book or they have to read the book before seeing the movie or they never want to read a book before they see a movie – the iterations are endless.

I prefer to read books before I see movies, though time rarely affords it. As someone who has seen and read a lot, I feel like I know what qualities make up a good book versus a good movie, and I can manage my expectations. I never assume the quality of one will simply transfer to the other.

In our multimedia world, many people forget the obvious: books and movies are different forms of storytelling. Books bring us perspectives that movies can’t, while movies show us things no words can truly describe. If you can’t embrace the differences, it’s going to be hard to like anything as much as whichever you consume first.

As someone fascinated by storytelling, I love to consume the original source (usually the book) before the interpretation. What was taken out or what was added into a film version is an artistic choice, not a decision of whether to be loyal to the source or not. By taking out this part of the book, has the filmmaker made the film more concise and easy to watch or removed something essential? By adding a new scene, how does this add greater meaning to the story or does it simply distract from it? I love to decipher the artistic motivation and choices behind the discrepancies between books and films and make a determination of whether, in my opinion, the interpretation works or doesn’t.

Forgive me, I’m a story nerd. Whichever way you prefer to consume books and their movie counterparts, it doesn’t matter. But you’ll be happier the more you learn to appreciate the differences.