Don't Drop the Bomb On Me, Chabibi

There was a protest yesterday on Boston Common regarding the recent (and current) Israeli bombing of Gaza. Protected by the First Amendment, these protesters took swept onto the Common to express their opinion, which they are more than entitled to do. I was celebrating Chanukkah with my family in Nashua so I didn't get a chance to go to Boston to express my opinion regarding the situation in Israel. However, in case curious minds want to know, I have a message for my fellow New Englanders who marched on Boston:

Bleep You.

I am so sick of reading about how heartless and arrogant Israelis are because they don't want to be killed by a bunch of terrorist thugs. Before Israel bombed Gaza militant outposts this weekend, they allowed 70 rockets to fly from Gaza into Israeli territory. Seventy. While Israel was being shelled by a bunch of punks with rocket launchers I didn't hear one report about the number of innocent Israelis who died as a result of these mob-like attacks.

No nation should have to put up with this type of thuggery from their neighbors. The sovereign Gaza territory has a government who's sole purpose is to eliminate Israel from the map. Hamas is not dedicated to providing healthcare for their citizens, job training, education, or infrastructure. The people of Gaza toil in poverty and rubble because their elected leaders care more about killing Israelis than providing Palestinians a decent quality of life. Rather than join the 21st century Hamas feels it requires much less effort to simply blame the Jews for everything (because that's so original...).

Israel has the right to protect its citizens from rocket attacks and suicide bombers. Despite the fact that they have one of the most advanced air forces in the world, Gazans are going to die if Hamas continues to purposely build militant outposts in civilian neighborhoods. Until Hamas can stop acting like a bunch of dickweeds, Israel will respond forcefully. As a result Israel is keeping terrorists on the run so America doesn't have to.

Americans who protest Israeli action have obviously never read a history book, or even had the pleasure of riding on Israeli public transportation. Israel has its issues, and it certainly isn't perfect but that doesn't mean that they have to put up murderous shit from Hamas. Rallying against Israel is a worldwide phenomenon that's almost as trendy as MacBooks or iPhones. Incidentally one of the biggest protests against Israeli action wasn't in Boston, New York, or London - it occured in Israel. Show me one country in the Middle East that would allow their citizens to protest their own military action and I'll show you a Hamas official that dreams of rainbows, unicorns, and peace with Israel.

Restaurant Review: Tacos and Dogs

Restaurant: Tacos and Dogs
Address: 75 Cottage Street East, Norwood, MA
Website: www.tacosanddogs.com
Rating: C+

Mexican food in the suburbs is pretty scarce, therefore the opening of Tacos and Dogs in Norwood Center captured my attention. The simplistic menu serves up tacos, burritos, hot dogs, or a combination thereof (burrito dog, anyone?). Their online burrito menu looks strikingly similar to Anna's Taqueria, which is about where the comparison between the Coolidge Corner landmark and this place ends.

I ordered a regular (10") chicken burrito which was crafted assembly line style. The tortilla was heated in a press and then assembled to my specifications (chicken, rice, salsa, hot sauce, jalapenos, cheese, lettuce, guacamole). I was a bit disappointed that the cheese wasn't melted into the tortilla a la Anna's Taqueria. I was also annoyed by the fact that not only did the guacamole look dated but it was meticulously scooped out to equal roughly 2 teaspoons. Tacos and Dogs upcharges for guac (typical of most burrito restaurants) and as such I should be able to see and taste the green avocado goodness.

I got mine to go and was pleased that the burrito remained warm after an 8 minute car ride. I like my food spicy and tend to go overboard with hot sauces. However, even with the extra hot sauce and jalapenos, my Taco and Dogs burrito was still bland. The fact that my burrito was warm and I was cold (and hungry!) made up for the fact that it lacked the spicy blend of vegetables, cilantro, tomato, chicken and guac I expect from a 10,000 calorie Mexican fast food staple.

Even with the additional guac charge, my burrito rang in at $4.94 which is a downright dining bargain. Tacos and Dogs won't be winning any culinary awards soon but it's cheap, local, and should tide me over until the Chipotle in South Norwood opens in early 2009. Tacos and Dogs is tucked away behind Norwood Center at 75 Cottage St East (near the Fiddlehead Theatre). Free street parking in and around Cottage St is widely available.

Jewish Geography: The Home Edition

Long before Facebook became all the rage, Jews practiced their own version of Facebook, aka: Jewish Geography. I'm sure that this game is played in other minority cultures, but Jews take great pride in networking through Jewish Geography. After finding out which city a new-to-you Jew resides in, they will get peppered with inquiries as to whether they know so and so from their home city. After all, new Jews are never strangers - they simply friends you have not met yet.

Most Jews who are even remotely observant will go to Jewish camp or join a religious youth group. Combine that with the fact that there aren't that many of us to begin with you and it's easy to see why the chances of us knowing people in random cities is pretty high. That stranger you just met from California? It turns out that you went to camp for ten years with their first cousin. Meet a nice guy at a bar? Don't be surprised if his mom and your mom were in a synagogue bowling league together back in '83.

Jewish Geography is especially useful when trying to play matchmaker. Last weekend I attended a party in Boston hosted by a friend who grew up in Rochester. His friend from home came in, we hung out, and took a couple of pictures together. Friend goes home and uploads pictures onto Facebook where they are spotted by his aunt, who is convinced that we have a connection. It turns out that his uncle and my uncle knew each other while studying in Cleveland 35 years ago.

The fact that Rochester guy and I met once and live 350 miles away from each other has not prevented our over-eager relatives from harrassing us all week. We've fielded questions from "how did you two meet?" (randomly, at a party because beer brings people together) to "when do you plan to see each other again?" (when I go on Jerry Springer to reveal that he's the daddy). Honestly, though, it's nice to see the old people getting so excited, even if there's really no reason to be.

Screw Rock Band 2. This year I want Hanukkah Harry to send me Jewish Geography: The Home Edition.

Let It Snow

We're supposed to get our first major snow storm of the season on Friday and it'll likely continue into early next week. Schools will be delayed or cancelled and they'll alert their communities through websites and news bulletins. Kids will wake up at their normal time, click on a website, and decide whether or not to fall back asleep.

When I was growing up in the 80's and 90's, the Troll and I had a very sophisticated way of finding out whether or not school had been cancelled. We would wake up at 5am and flip the alarm clock dial to WBZ. We would then tune into WHDH, hit mute, and watch for the alphabetized list of school closings to scroll across the bottom of the screen. We would high five in glee when we learned that the neighboring towns of Brockton, Canton, and Avon had all cancelled school. Then we would wait. And wait. And wait for Gary Lapier to do his micro machine man impression until he hit the S towns (and then he'd usually go into a commercial break). Stoughton would usually wait until 6:30 to announce a school closing, by which point the Troll and I would be already be alert, awake, and decked out with perfectly coiffed early 90's bangs. At that point there was nothing left to do but shovel the driveway for 2 hours while grumbling that we'd rather be in school.

Obviously the Internet makes planning your snow day a lot easier but there's still something romantic about the anticipation of hearing the news live. I would hang off the edge of the seat after Stoneham was announced and be awashed in disappointment when Stoughton was skipped and they would go right into Stow. Of course when you become an adult there's no such thing as a snow day, but now that I have a service to plow out my parking lot I certainly wish there were.

You Have Been Denied

I work out of my house, which means that when I'm in town I'm pretty much home for most of the day. I live in a building with multiple units and like most apartment-style houses guests need to be buzzed into the building. I'm not sure if it's the fact that I'm home or the fact that people buzz as if it were a game of roulette, but not a single week goes by when I don't get a request from a stranger to enter my building.

Despite popular belief, I am not the doorman or a security agent, nor will I be responsible for allowing random people roam around my building. It's not my problem if someone misses a package delivery because of my refusal to let UPS into the building nor is it my life-fulfilling duty to buzz in a dirty hippie because their friend can't hear the buzzer over their wicked awesome music. Personally I would freak the fuck out if some random person banged on my door without first ringing the buzzer. I'm fairly convinced that the UPS man, FedEx worker, and the sushi guy are stand-up people, but I still meet them outside because I don't want them anywhere near my unit. My neighbor poor Mrs. S is half-deaf and probably wouldn't hear my screams anyhow.

I can't understand how someone without a key would expect to enter a building they don't live in because they made a compelling case over a squakbox. I have no idea who most of my neighbors are, which is why I seriously don't care about denying their shady friends and deliverymen entrance into my brick fortress. It's 2008 though and I honestly have to wonder if unauthorized people actually think that I'd buzz them in just because they perceive me as a trusting character. So far I haven't fielded one complaint from my neighbors about my buzzer surliness and I certainly hope that they follow similar protocol.

Song from the LL Bean Commercial

Has this been stuck in your head too?



It's by Fountains of Wayne, the same band responsible for the one-hit-wonder Stacy's Mom.

Cavity Free Since 1980 (and other anecdotes)

Earlier this fall I started hanging with the Chasids once a month for Friday evening Shabbat service. This Friday a Lubavicher family outside Boston opened their home for over 60 members of the young Jewish community. After the one hour religious service all of us sat down to a traditional family style dinner of soup, gefilte fish, chicken, and vodka (naturally). Dinner is free and nobody is ever turned away due to lack of space. I am honestly amazed that this particular rabbi and his wife, who aren't that much older than I am, manage to not only raise 4 small kids but also pull off dinner for 60 without breaking a sweat. It's truly a unique experience.

Easy Mac and her hot Republican hubby stayed with me on Saturday night. Easy Mac was my sorority pledge educator and therefore one of my first defacto role models at UMass. Sure she would threaten to make us memorize the location of every sorority chapter across the United States, but that didn't prevent us from dumping her into a shower while fully clothed. It was fun to catch up, rehash a week of Sharon-inspired dinners, discuss the different liquors involved in jungle juice, and watch her strut her stuff in a pair of sexy maternity jeans. I can hardly wait to head upstate for her 30th birthday (theme: barefoot and pregnant).

I went in for my bi-annual dentist appointment and am happy to report that I am cavity free, 28 years and running. However, I do have a small area of exposed nerve due to the fact that I brush too hard (I take dental hygiene a little too seriously). My hygienist, who just so happens to be my first cousin, decided to put some gel on the area to make it less sensitive. On a pain level of 1-10, the sensation of cold gel on an exposed nerve was about an eleven and a half. After the screaming subsided she decided that in order to make the gel dry faster that she would blast my exposed nerve wit the air gun, thus ratcheting my pain level up to a solid 13. She repeated this three times, all while laughing her ass off and muttering phrases like "payback". The whole thing was very amusing as far as she was concerned. Uh huh, laugh now, cuz. Just don't come whining to me if you need bone marrow someday.

The first snow fall of the year honestly brought a smile to my face. I got my first car with all wheel drive back in May and I've been dying to drive it through snowy terrain. Unfortunatley the 1" dusting wasn't enough to take it for a test drive but I remain hopeful. Trading in the Crossfire left a huge hole in my heart that can only be filled by riding around in an all wheel drive vehicle in the dead of winter.

Time to have a glass of yummy scotch courtesy of Mr. Easy Mac. Cheers, mate.