The Weight of Our Memories

My grandmother had a beautiful house.  Underneath the cream-white carpet the floors stood on a hollow wooden raised foundation that echoed the gentle sound of your footstep with a beautiful acoustic resonance, like the soles of your feet were sending sound waves...

The Face of Home

My Poppa, Sam Fox, always had a smile on his face.  Those ridges of his face, marked over the years by his constant joyful expression.  That was him, he was a man we all loved and looked up to.  Took a job when he was still in grade school, sweeping up in a local...

Freedom and Passover

It’s always when I take my first bite of matzah that I want bread more than any other time during Passover.  That moment when I look at the tan speckled cracker and think: “here we go.”  Don’t get me wrong, I love the seder, I love the holiday, but I always have such...

Every Woman’s Right to Choose

Tuesdays were perfect.  I had no commitments at all.  No classes, no lessons, no gigs, and so I knew that that was my chance.  Each week I got up at 9, slipped into sandals and drove the hour and a half to the beach in Malibu where I could walk for miles without...

The Jews and Justice Scalia

I can’t imagine the clothing being very comfortable.  Tough but rudimentary leather stitching and sizing made for you, but still somehow never really fits quite right.  The old clothes, made accurate to the specifications of 18th century technology.   Weapons that...