September 2004 Archives

September 08, 2004 — Friends had "Central Perk," Seinfeld had "(Tom's) Restaurant," and 90210 had "The Peach Pit." The hang out of choice for my high school friends and I was "The Diner." More specifically, it was "The New City Diner." And to be completely accurate, it's technically now called "The New City Diner: American Beauty." You see, "The New City Diner" is now a chain. They have additional locations in Yorktown Heights and Blauvelt. But they are all still called "The New City Diner." They're called that even though none of them are actually in New City. Not even the original. It's in Bardonia.

Anyway, my friends and I have spent a lot of time there over the years and still go back when we're all back home. It's not like we really ever want to go there. It's just the only place that's open late at night. And by late at night, I mean after 9 pm.

For the sake of complete accuracy, I should point out that we also spend a lot of time at the Nanuet Diner where the food is cheaper and there is a smaller chance of running into high school people we don't like. And when I say high school people we don't like, I mean people we went to high school with, not people currently in high school. I don't know anyone currently in high school so it would not be possible for me to dislike them. Another plus for the Nanuet Diner is that, as its name would imply, it is actually in Nanuet.

Now that we've cleared that up, I'd like to discuss the topic of booze and the diner. I find this topic interesting because the diner has one of the most fully stocked "bars" I've ever seen. Yet I never see people drinking in the diner. I've certainly never drank at the diner. And despite the very random nature of this post, I'm actually not even drinking right now. Sure, you may sometimes see a lady sipping on a glass of white zinfandel. But I don't often see people drinking the plethora of specialty drinks listed on the menu, like the "Brandy Alexander," for example.

The next topic I'd like to discuss are the free butter cookies they used to leave by the cash register. I really liked those. Every now and then someone will remind me that I'm Seth Mandel and I should think it's pretty nasty that numerous random people touch those cookies all day long with their dirty little hands that have been who knows where. But when I don't think of it like that, I really like the free cookies. I wish they still had them.

The last thing that fascinates me about the diner is their perpetual openness. Whereas many business have a clear opening and closing, the diner has not such separation. Do they just pick random times for their various opening and closing activities? I mean, do they replace the half cantaloupes at 2 am, mop the floors at 3 am, and make all that coleslaw at 4 am? Also, does the diner really even need to have locks on their doors or have light switches? They really don't need them.

Comments (3)

September 13, 2004 — After months of being teased for having a "mainframe phone," I finally broke down and bought a new cell phone. The Motorola Timeport, my one and only cell phone for over three years, has been replaced with the new Motorola V710 which can send and receive text messages, has voice commands, digital still and video camera, ring tones including MP3, blue tooth, games, utilities, and lots more features, most of which I'll never use.

I'm still pretty skeptical about the usefulness of all these new features, but I'm still glad I got it. After all, when I first bought a cell phone I was pretty skeptical about its usefulness. I held off for a while using the rationale, "I don't really need to be reached at all times." As it turns out, it's been pretty useful and I really can't imagine life without it.

The one thing I still don't understand is ring tones. My old phone came with nine ring tones and that was it. And you know what? I only needed one. I chose the one that sounded like a normal phone. I'm fairly certain the telephone ring has stayed fairly consistent for over a hundred years. Nobody saw the need for their house phone to play an Ella Fitzgerald song when it rang.

One might argue that with the plethora of cell phones, it's important to be able to distinguish yours from the thousands of other people roaming the mall with their own cell phones. This is a valid concern and they already invented a great feature to deal with this issue. It's called vibrate. It's a great little feature that not only helps you know when your phone is ringing but also helps others not know when your phone is ringing.

I think it's ridiculous that the default ring on my phone is a freaking song. Seriously, do they just assume that everyone who buys a cell phone these days is a teenage Asian girl? I think it's kinda weird and cheesy for adults to have their phone play songs unless it's an appropriate song. Appropriate songs would be "Hail to the Chief" for the President, the "Law and Order" theme song for Jerry Orbach, and Avinu Malkenu for a rabbi. A horse ring is acceptable as long as it's not misconstrued. Other than those exceptions, I think your phone should sound like a phone.

So that's where I stand on the issue of ring tones. You can remind me that I said this when we're hanging out and all of a sudden "Dancin' in the Dark" starts emanating from my pocket.

Comments (3)

September 21, 2004 — While riding my bike this weekend, I got teased. By kids. Two little spoiled brat punk kids teased me as I rode my big, ugly, heavy bike through the wealthy part of town.

I was minding my own business when these two preteen twerps rode by me, screamed out "hey, nice bike," and rode away laughing. Now I'll admit, my bike isn't exactly fancy. But this is hardly the point. I'm fairly certain that kids aren't allowed to make fun of me anymore. I'm too old.

Also, I'm bigger, smarter, and stronger than them. I could have easily made those little losers cry through words, through violence, or through intimidation. Of course I did no such thing. But I could have. And that should have been enough to stop them.

Kids have always been and always will be mean. But they really should keep their meanness confined to their own kind. I've certainly both dished out and sucked up my fair share of abuse. But it's always been with people my own age. I think these kids should learn to pick on someone their own size.

Comments (4)

September 22, 2004 — I'd like to extend a belated welcome to the Web to Mike who has been writing to a Live Journal site for some time now. I'm a big fan of the blog and I think it's fun to see what people are up to. The added insight into Mike's life should be particularly enlightening. After all, this is a the kid who neglected to tell his best friends when got his driver's license and left us to find out only by actually seeing him drive around town.

While you're checking it out, I highly recommend this posting. I was one of the highly amused friends. I'm not sure why but I find this letter extremely hysterical. I've read it many, many times and it never stops being funny.

Comments (1)

September 26, 2004 — This weekend I observed Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement. It's the holiest day of the year when Jews all over the world abstain from food and drink and attend religious services to apologize and be forgiven for the sins they committed during the past year. Despite Marty's suggestion that one could bypass all that effort by not doing it and then apologizing, I still fast and go to synagogue because I respect the tradition, find it rewarding, and would feel too guilty if I didn't. That said, when you spend eight hours in services, it's hard not to make a few observations. Since there's definitely something inherently wrong with making light of a serious religious holiday, I'll be sure to apologize for this one next year.

• As I approached the synagogue, there was not a parking spot to be found. As people wandered the nearby streets with "we need tickets" signs, I was encouraged by the remarkable turnout and the high demand for Jewish services -- in Wisconsin of all places! I felt relieved that I had arranged for my seat in advance, in what was known as "the student section." This, of course, made me laugh because all I could think of was "the student section" at the football games where drunk students scream obscene chants, wave foam fingers, and do ridiculous dances. This had the potential of being more exciting than usual.

  As it turned out, the synagogue's student section ended up being rather tame. After all, most students were probably down the street at the big Wisconsin – Penn State football game. There's inherent humor in observing the Big Atonement right down the street from the Big Game. There's something awe-inspiring about hearing a voice from above as you walk towards a house of worship. Some of that glory is diminished when you realize the Lord's decree comes from the heavens in the form of "first and ten Wisconsin" and when "do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight" emanates through the air as you open the synagogue door.

• Whether it's New City, Pittsburgh, or Madison, it's encouraging to know that the same types of people are at every synagogue. Here are some of my favorites:
  • The overpowering, loud, unsynchronized singer. Typically a man with a real deep voice, he sings so loud you can't hear anything else that's going on. He's always about five words ahead of the rabbi, he makes up his own tune, and you're pretty sure he's saying the words entirely wrong. But he doesn't care so good for him.
  • The amazing voice singer. Typically a woman with a voice so beautiful it could make you cry, she sings along loudly and proudly. Ya gotta respect talent, but this is Yom Kippur, not freaking American Idol auditions. I prefer to hear people with nasal and whiny voices like Fran Drescher. That's what Jews are supposed to sound like.
  • The Britney Spears wanna-be girl. Sure, you might check her out at first, but you soon realize you're in synagogue and that's just wrong. Fishnet stockings, short tight leather skirts, and pythons around your neck are completely inappropriate for shul.
  • The social queen. This yenta does nothing but walks around and gossips with everyone she sees. No matter where you go there's always one of these. Unless you're in New City, of course. There are like one hundred of these there.
  • The rabbi-wannabe. This guy wears the full white outfit, has a big beard, and walks around shaking hands with the politician hand-shake. He looks like the rabbi so you may be confused. But trust me, he is not the rabbi. He just wishes he was.
  • The hypocrite. This is the guy who reads the prayers about how only the Lord shall pass judgement as he looks around the room, classifies people, and makes observations for his blog.
• Conservative services are conducted primarily in Hebrew, a language that I can just barely read and can't understand at all. So I follow along in English. The problem is that I can't really understand that either. You never hear normal people using words like hearken, bestow, supplicate, beseech, wanton, exultation, and effrontery in their every day speech (maybe wanton [sic], but only in the context of Chinese soup). I don't even know what most of those mean. Also, what's with appending "-eth" to all those verbs. I should try that. Instead of "what the hell are you talking about" I might say "I doth not knoweth of what thou speaketh." Isn't this type of language a bit tough for people with lisps (which itself is kind of a cruel word to begin with, don't you think?).
• The responsive reading is always a mess. I don't understand how 50,000 people can sing "Piano Man" or "Better Man" in perfect unision but when it comes to 500 people reading "The Prayer for the State of Israel," the whole thing just goes to shit. All you hear is mumbo jumbo as everyone says different things at the same time. It's like when the Brady kids all try to tell Alice something and all scream at once. You can't understand shit.
• As if the responsive reading wasn't enough of a mess to begin with, all this feminist crap just makes it worse. Because g-d forbid (sorry) we should offend anyone by actually reading the male-specific words that are printed in the freaking book we're holding. You're trying your best to read along with something that might say "The son shall honor his father and all mankind." But the rabbi leading the service feels the need to neuter the words he's reading, as if he's some kind of feminist high school English teacher. He makes all kinds of fancy substitutions that transform something like that that into "The son or daughter shall honor his parents and all humankind." Those things throw you off like you wouldn't believe. It would be like if Billy Joel just decided to change all the words to "We Didn't Start the Fire" one day. You just can't do that.

L'shanah tovah. Tekia. Badgers win!

Comments (4)

back to the archive index