Is this day (or night) six or day (or night) seven in the latest and greatest battle with insomnia? I can't remember. In any case, I have not slept, save an occasional 45 minute nap on an afternoon here or there, for many days.

This makes functioning as a member of society a real challenge. I want it to stop. I need to sleep.

Two Funny Words That I Have Learned Since Being Married To Sarah

Dongle - a little piece of hardware that plugs into the computer, without which certain software (like Avid video editing) would not be operable. It deters unauthorized copying.

Blech - a thin sheet of metal that goes over the stovetop during Shabbat in Orthodox households. One burner is kept on low the entire Shabbat, and the blech spreads the heat evenly across the whole stovetop. It's used to warm meals up.

Quick Check-In

My office is closed this week, and Sarah's not booked, so we've been laying low with Asher.

Tomorrow, we're heading up to Boston to stay with my college friend Dana and her family. They've got three kids and a great house in the northern suburbs. The plan is to hang out there for New Year's Eve.

In 1994, Dana and I spent New Year's Eve in Madrid, participating in wild toasts in the main square, and leading a conga line at 4 a.m. in some dive bar full of drunken Spaniards. In 2005, we'll sit in a posh Andover 6br home, have a glass of wine and a nice dinner, talk about our kids, and trip over silly plastic toys on the way to bed at 12:01 a.m.

Life. Funny it is.

Sarah's grandmother is dying.

Not of some illness or the result of an accident, but of old age. Rachel Kaufman is 93 years old, and in the four years I've known her, she has slown down very nearly to the point of stopping.

On Sunday, we went to have lunch with her. It was time for Asher's lunch, too, so Sarah and I were feeding him at the table. Across from Asher, Sarah's mom was feeding Rachel. Bookends of life. It was a very sharp image to take back with me.

File Under: Not a joke, but funny

Grab your anti-virus software, and hit the deck! There's a new worm out there that covertly downloads a copy of the Mr. Bean movie to your hard drive.

I'm home alone tonight.

Sarah and Asher are sleeping at her parents' in Queens because of the transit strike.

The last time New York City faced a crisis it was the Blackout a couple of summers ago. Everyone weathered it with good cheer and camaraderie.

This time, there's no cheer, no camaraderie. It's cold. It's the end of the year. Everyone's got a lot of work to do, a lot of presents to buy, and no time to be upbeat and hearty.

Tomorrow, I might have to blow off an important meeting, bike to Queens, pick up Asher and the car, and return home in time to put him to bed. Sarah will have to find her way home from work. She might be able to hook a ride with some colleagues. Hopefully.

Where I Live

The transit strike's on today, which means I'm working from home. About twenty minutes ago, I decided it was time for a quick break, and went up the block to the Tea Lounge for a mocha to go.

The Tea Lounge is an enormous coffee shop with overstuffed sofas, colored-chalk menus, free wireless access, micro-brew beer... you get the picture. Walking in the door, the first thing that hit me was the parking lot of strollers. The second thing that hit me was the army of kids ages sub-one to three and their parents/nannies, all sitting around a hippie-ish girl with a guitar and her two companions with hand drums. Seems that Tuesdays and Thursdays are sing-a-long days at the Tea Lounge.

When I got in line, they were halfway through one of the many animal noise songs that infests the canon of children's music. By the time I got my mocha and was walking out the door, they'd launched into a hearty rendition of "Hineh Ma Tov". Asian toddlers, blond toddlers, African-American toddlers... everyone (who could sing) was singing this Israeli folk song that I learned at age three in synagogue.

I live in a neighborhood where everyone has a baby or toddler, and where even if you're not Jewish, you are.

Wacky.

With NYC's transit strike looming for tomorrow, Sarah and I are working on contingency plans for jobs and childcare. Here's one possibility:

- I drive to Queens and pick up Chime (the Tibetan nanny). Time - 1.5 hrs.
- I bike to work. Time - 1 hr.
- Sarah drives to work, braving the surefire traffic snarls. Manhattan is bad on a good day. I hate to imagine what it will be like without any public transportation running. Time - 2.5 hours, est.

Fun!

17-Year-Olds Think I'm Cool

Last night, we hired a local high school girl to babysit while we went to a party. Actually, there were two babysitters - sisters, twins from around the corner. Molly and Kitty, but don't hold that against them.

Molly and Kitty have attended the same private school (up the block) for the past thirteen years, including kindergarten. They're very articulate and comfortable with adults. Either Molly or Kitty has a dyed blue streak in her hair, and both describe themselves as rock snobs. One is going to McAllister next year, and the other will be attending Middlebury.

First thing Molly (or Kitty) did was head for the "N"s in the CD rack to see if I had the first Neutral Milk Hotel CD. Impressive. (Of course, I did have it.)

When Sarah and I returned, they told us that they were "very impressed with our CD collection - both the size and the diversity."

Cue The Circus Music

Asher's sick again. Sarah's sick again. It's crunch time for me at work (again).

Light at the end of the tunnel? My office is closed from Christmas through New Year's. If everyone's feeling better, we're going up to Boston for NYE with some friends.

I haven't posted anything political in a while - mostly because I've been tired of it all, but also because all of you except Chuck have complained about my pedantry.

But this one is too weird to pass up:

This morning, I heard on NPR and read in the Austin local paper that the Republicans are planning to keep the House of Representatives shut down for the ENTIRE month of January while Tom Delay seeks to be acquitted on felony charges of money laundering and return to his post as majority leader. House rules dictate that a member under indictment cannot retain a leadership post.

What this means is that the Republicans are shutting down Government for a man thrice admonished by the ethics committee in the past two years, for a man who has been indicted on two charges of money laundering, for a man who is also tied up in the blossoming Abramoff scandal that will likely lead to three or four more Repubican indictments in the next year. And they're shutting down Government rather than operate without him as majority leader because he holds all the power and purse strings.

Thank you, Republicans!

If Pelosi and company don't make hay out of this from January through October, they don't deserve to take back the House.

I'm sitting in the Tea Lounge (local coffeehouse) working on a presentation for the RIAA and slamming down soy mochas (how very...). Unfortunately, I forgot to add the "decaf" part of the order to the last two, and now I'm bouncing off the walls. In front of me, children are running back and forth (tea lounge is a family friendly joint), and above, a bad jam band is blaring out of the speakers.

Hopefully, I'll be able to bang through this presentation in a few hours, so that I can spend the rest of the day with Sarah and Asher.

Yesterday, the three of us went to a holiday party hosted by someone in Sarah's mom's group. This is my scene now: a dozen babies crawling around the floor, pulling each other's hair, stealing each other's toys, and taking turns crying due to hunger, exhaustion, or general frustration at some perceived slight. The parents are all right - one's an anthropologist, two are in television production, a couple are teachers, and one's going to school for a master's in energy management/renewable sources. Baby talk (that's talk OF babies, not gaa gaa goo goo) only accounted for about half the discussions, which ain't bad.

Last night, Sarah and I went to a party for a friend whose documentary on BP (the energy company) was nominated for an Emmy. The party was catered (poached fish, etc.), and they had a screening after dinner. Sounds pretentious, but it was actually rather nice.

I'm sitting in the living room this morning, and I notice that Sarah has carted home one of those free baby magazines that litter our neighborhood. American Baby, this one's called.

At first, I scorn it as just another vehicle to push baby products on susceptible new Park Slope parents. Then, I see the article teasers on the cover:

"Can you prevent the next ear infection?"

Hey, Asher's last one was a doozy. I'd love to find out how to prevent the next one.

"A timeline for talking"

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Isn't it time for Asher's "mamas" and "dadas" to start meaning something?

"How to get two kids into one bedroom"

Don't get any ideas, but this is something Sarah and I are talking about. We do eventually plan to have another, and we have nowhere to put it.



Shit. I am the target demo for this magazine.

How To Build Community

As I mentioned earlier, my new nephew was born last week. It was the first time I've gotten to really see the full scope of how the Orthodox Jewish community handles this lifecycle event, and I was utterly amazed at how they use it to bring the entire community together. For this little event of a baby's birth, Sarah's family had FOUR huge celebrations to which the entire Jewish community was invited:

Party #1: Hello, Boy!
On or around the first shabbat (Friday night) after the child is born, everyone gets together for a gathering called a Shalom Zachar, translated loosely into "Hello, Male." Of course, food and drink are served, and in some local communities, it has the loose baby theme of making you burp - beer, hummus (chickpeas), and other delectables of that ilk are consumed.

Party #2: The Circumcision/Bris
For this one, more than a hundred folks come together for food, drink, short speeches, and general mirth.

Party #3: Sing-a-Long
One night before the bris, all the children in the neighborhood go to the newborn's house, gather around the crib, and sing songs to him.

Party #4 The Buy-Back/Pidyon Ha Ben
In a tradition that dates back to biblical times, the parents of the firstborn male must buy the baby back from service to the priest class. It's another huge affair, with food, drink, and sometimes cute little chocolate coins.

For religious Jews, this level of celebration persists across all lifecycle events - Bar Mitzvah, Marriage, and even Death. For Marriage, there's the wedding, followed by seven smaller celebrations (Sheva Brachas). For Death, there's a week of mourning where the entire community comes by the home to console the relatives, recount fond tales of the deceased, and talk of trivialities.

In most Orthodox communities, there's an event like one of these every week, which means that the whole community comes together to socialize and celebrate life on a very regular basis. It binds everyone together in a way that I have not seen in any other culture (at least in America). What's more, you can go to any Orthodox community, anywhere in the world, and immediately become a part of it through these events. Not only are they great tools to build and bind local communities, but they're also very effective at linking individuals and families to a greater network of Jewish society.

"I'm leaving early today to go to the Bon Jovi concert."

"Hey - Are you going to see Ricky Martin next week?"

Two overheard comments that damage my already low opinion of my colleagues' musical tastes.

TODAY...

I went to a bris for my new nephew. Lots of great food.

I wrote a press release.

I had a meeting about selling research to teen fashion retailers.

I ate icky pasta for lunch. I washed it down with coffee and two pieces of chocolate stolen from the desk of the Pentacostal Christian girl in my office.

I am listening to Snoop Dogg. Everybody's got to hear the shit on WBALLS, WBALLS, WBALLS.

Co-worker: (at 9:45am). Sorry I'm late for our 9am meeting. I just got in. Can we reschedule for later today?

Isaac: Sure. The earliest I'm free is at 5pm. Does that work for you?

Co-worker: Nope. I leave at 5.


* * *

Why can't I have a job like this at my company? Everyone else works 9:45-5pm with an hour lunch. I work consulting hours, minus the travel.

File Under: Things I Didn't Know

Apparently, consultants at my level make $200k-$250k per year, for doing basically what I'm doing now.

BUT... they work even more hours than I do.

BUT... they travel about 50% of the time.

When do these people see their families? Is it worth all that money if you only see your wife and child for two hours a week? Methinks not, but damn, it is a lot of money.

Greetings from frigid Grand Rapids!

I spent the bulk of yesterday evening browing the CD sections of big box retailers and taking pictures with my camera phone for tomorrow's presentation. Stuff like this:


Here's a decent example of a call-out in the racks: Five bucks off a CD. Pretty compelling, right?



Sure, if you can actually FIND the CD that the sale sign references.




It took me ten minutes to locate the Reba McEntire CD that was supposedly on sale. It was several feet away, on another rack. And there was no sales sticker on the cover.

I'll use this to jump into a mini-discussion about better living through proper signage, and some extremely tactical ways in which you can nudge the sales needle in the right direction.

Oh yeah, and I'll also talk about how teens are coming back to physical sales in droves, and what retailers can do to bring 'em in.

Gripping stuff, this.

Hand me my nose ring, and show me the mosh pit, right Ben?