Photos from Virginia - batch 2

Here's some more shots. Keep it rocking.

My great great great great grandfather Moses Jefferson Washington Weinryb. He looks just like me! Civil War veteran and decorated hero.


More Virginian pillars at U of V.


If you want to know what this is, e-mail me. Otherwise you can just assume that it is robotic death hands tearing into an organic block of steely flesh. Actually, that is what it is.

Coming soon: Some crazy wide angle shots, a tale of a swastika skirt, and the usual Shul of Rock mayhem you have come to love. Stick this site in your favourites list, because it just gets more rockin' from here.

Questions? Concerns? Cranky? Leave it all in a comment.

Photos from Virginia - batch 1

Some fun shots from my recent excursion to Virginia (mixed with a few from D.C. and Maryland). If the world is my canvas, you are the paint.

Is this sign really necessary?


U of V has a gorgeous campus. Just don't use the word 'campus' when you are there. They don't like it for some reason that escapes me. Say 'grounds' instead. Got it? Good.


Ski-lifts are so much fun! Especially when you pass random people in mid-air. Do you wave at them? Ignore them? Smile weakly at them? So many choices.


Edgar Allen Poe went to U of V! This is his room! He drank and gambled a lot and ran up a huge debt so he ran away after first year! That's a raven statue by the window!


Not the best title for a show during an intifada.


Stone-faced at the Hirshhorn Museum courtyard.


Some people like sitting in dark rooms watching spinning tops. Childhood Chanukah flashback!


Hoisting the flag.


A butterfly rests on an authentic Civil War cannon in The Field of Lost Shoes.


My sister is stepping into another dimension. Hey, it happens.


A weird bug at the U of V. Even insects need an education.


A cadet from the Virginia Military Institute. Although VMI and West Point both train cadets, only VMI cadets are permitted to perform in marches with bayonets - this is due to their bravery in battle at The Field of Lost Shoes.


Ever have trouble finding a hanger in your closet?


A Jewish-Italian neighourhood is a well-fed neighbourhood.

More photos coming soon.

The Andy Milonakis Show!

There is a program playing late at night on MTV called The Andy Milonakis Show. It is so incredibly funny that your gut will explode, reassamble itself, and explode again; All within the span of one chuckle. After that, you'll just be laughing a lot.

This show isn't for everyone. If you like watching a guy who looks like a kid going on crazy adventures and taking part in zany sketches, this is the show for you. In one evening, I witnessed Andy lose a rabid John Stamos in a tree, engage in a fight with a betrayed diary, and fall inside his couch, thereby leading him to a snarky old Jewish couple playing cribbage beneath his cushions. If you like the flashback sequences in Family Guy, you'll like this.

The show stars Andy Milonakis, a 28 year old who looks and sounds like a 15 year old kid. He is always decked out in his trusty lumberjack shirt and black slacks, and enjoys blogging as his alter ego "Real Boy" when he isn't terrorizing unsuspecting victims with his wacky pranks and wild antics. He is remeniscent of Pee-Wee Herman, mixed with some Bugs Bunny and a little (early) Robin Williams to boot.

You can watch some select clips if you wanna. Just click here.

Anorexic Deer

(Please be advised: Although this was written while I was in Virginia, this is currently being posted from Pennsylvania.)

Sitting around in the backwoods of Virginia (Shenadoah Valley to be exact) is almost as fun as sitting around in my usual hangout – Toronto suburbia. Differences are as follows:
Valley has more mosquitoes. Toronto has more crime. Valley has more nosh. Toronto has more people to share your nosh with. This Virginian valley has more ski hills. Toronto has more winter. Virginia has that ol’ 21+ law. Torontonians either need to be 19+ or have a decent bought ID. Oh Toronto, how I miss you.

I am having a fun time though. It’s a lovely little condo and the air down here is amazingly fresh. It reminds you how crappy the air can be in the big city. Most smog in southern Ontario comes from the US though. We Canadians plant all our cities by the border – the Americans put all their factories there. Anyone ever drive to Lewiston, New York? That’s a lot of smoke stacks along the ol’ Niagara River.

It’s nice to be with the family. I thought the heat would cause us all to get pissy and put us at each other’s throats, but instead we are banding together and drinking lots of water, eating lots of junk food, and lounging around in the pool in between car rides and driving around. A really scrawny deer ran across the road today while we were driving. “Anorexic deer!” someone shouted. I don’t get it really. There is so much foliage out there. Why is that deer going hungry? Maybe she (I’m pretty sure it was female) is just a picky eater.

“Oh, no! I don’t very much care for this grass at all. And these leaves? Hideous. Anyone got a buck for the vending machine? Ha ha! Get it? I said BUCK! Oh, how I hunger…”

Damn animals. Feh. I did see a beaver and some Canadian geese today. They really made me feel at home.

Toronto suburbia, I miss you so much that I am going to write a poem in your honour. I just read some A.M. Klein, and now I’m in the mood. Be advised folks, my poetry is not very pretty.

Ode to Toronto Suburbia

the grass needs mowing. Father reminds me.
crime rates risen. Bathurst bleeds true.
the ice cream truck jingles, its bell a cool luminescence in the darkness of that which is hot.
I like ice cream.

too many wild cats. Not enough tame.
Tired. _________________________
_____ Poetic. ___________________
___________Convention._________
_____________________Is. ______
______________________ _Very.___
____________________________Gimmicky.
many flowers bloom, even as trees melt.
No, I do not want to buy weed, but do tell your grandson I say hello.
biking to Mike’s. The journey is longer now.
frisbee in the park. Elderly ladies in the park.
Bad combination.
Sorry ma’am.
should go mow the lawn. And eat ice cream.
I like ice cream.

Photos from the road (D.C.)

Six select shots from D.C.

The original prez named George


A national garden near the Native American museum


A bathing beauty


A corridor in the Library of Congress


Debra in the upper foyer of the Library of Congress


A message in a federal office bathroom stall

Road Rants (That’s Bullshit!)

(Avi sleeps, clutching his precious food)
As I travelled through the plains of Pennsylvania, I realized that this is the third country I have blogged from within the last month. I’m such a world traveler! Had to say it. Anyhow, as this tin can zipped along the highway, I was struck by a lot of random thoughts. First off, the roads to Washington D.C. (,my latest destination,) are littered with tons of road kill. I’ve been on my fair share of highways, but DAMN! That’s a lot of street sausage.

Street meat. Crow chow. Coon corpses - You get the picture.

My other random ‘on-the-road’ thoughts are less smelly, but just as stomach turning. Lets fire some off. Each will be followed by the eternal phrase ‘That’s bullshit!’. Here goes:

- - - The yellow rubber bracelet known as the Livestrong Bracelet is meant to be worn in order to show solidarity with cancer patients and victims while also aiding in the collection of funds for cancer research. Now, most people are wearing them just to ‘be cool’, turning a meaningful idea into a mindless fad. As a result there are now tons of knockoffs being sold in dollar stores, Ebay, and some clothing shops. The money from those sales do not go to cancer research. They go to profiteers. Hmm, what’s another example of people profiting from cancer? Tobacco companies! You know what I think when I hear about industries squeezing a buck out of tragedy? I think (Here it comes!): That’s bullshit!

- - - In the July 14, 2005 issue of USA Today, page 10A contained an article with the headline British police seek mastermind. The writer, Thomas Wagner from the AP uses the phrase ‘terrorist attacks’ to describe the recent tragedy in London. Towards the bottom of the page, there is short piece written by Paul Leavitt (with wire reports) that describes Israeli forces moving into Tulkarem in an effort to capture the members of Islamic Jihad that were responsible for the recent slaughter of four Israelis. Rather than use the term ‘terrorist/terror attack’, Leavitt says ‘bombing’. This is in line with what Canada’s (government funded) CBC does, preferring the terms ‘gunmen’ or ‘militant’ rather than terrorist when it comes to reporting on Palestinian terrorism in Israel. When civilians are blown up in London, it is a terrorist attack. When it happens in Israel, it is a ‘bombing’. This type of double standard has been pointed out by countless organizations and advocacy groups, but it continues to exist and be perpetuated by the media. You know what? That’s bullshit!

- - - Cellphone companies have pretty much conquered the adult market, and now they are setting their sights on children. No-one knows what kind of negative effects one may suffer from prolonged (or temporary) cell phone use. These devices have not been around long enough for people to draw any concrete conclusions. All I know is this: Holding an ever-discharging battery against the side of your head on a regular basis is unhealthy. It’s just common sense. When you use a cell, that is exactly what you are doing. Children have thinner skulls, and that increases any possible risk to their wellbeing. Cancer rates have skyrocketed over the last couple of decades. Outside of population growth, one of the biggest factors is the enormous increase in digital devices, genetically modified foods, and signal transmissions. When you walk down the street (or sleep in your bed, sit on a toilet, stand on your roof, etc.) tons of radio/satellite/cell phone signals are ripping through your body in search of a receiver. Cancer is a genetic mutation. Prolonged exposure to foreign objects of an unquantified nature can cause mutations. Think about it. Cellphone companies sponsor studies, but the independent studies are the ones that find many more causes for concern. The cell companies know there are dangers but prefer making cash over caring about the wellbeing of their customers. Motorola is one of the bigger cover-up artists, even going as far as to alter a document in their favour, after it was presented to them by one of their hired researchers. (I read that in the Toronto Star a while back.) These cover-ups are…well… It’s such bullshit!

So, what do these three micro-rants have in common? Well they all describe evil groups of people that do not care about the needs of others. Cancer profiteers (bracelet manufacturers, tobacco and cellphone companies, terrorists) as well as people that value some lives over others (CBC, writer Paul Leavitt [and/or his editor] and the majority of the media). It’s a sick world people. All you can do is hide under your bed or/and apply pressure to the more powerful while raising your voice and writing lots of whiny letters. Also, you should invest in an earpiece for your cell.

If something weird happens to me in the near future, you can rest assured that it was committed as retaliation by one of the groups mentioned above. Probably a cell company. Those guys are such shmucks. Free weekends, my ass!

Blogger Tag!

OK, I’m it now. Straight outta D.C. Here goes:

1. How many books do you own?

I’ve lost count. My bedroom is filled with (dangerously tall) stacks of books, and I’ve got more stuffed under the bed, behind my Obi-Wan standee, and in my closet. There are even more on bookshelves which are conveniently peppered throughout the house. Lots of books. I’ve read nearly all of them. Some multiple times. I’m an English major. Sue me.

2. Most recent purchase?
'Four Screenplays by Woody Allen'

3. Currently reading?
The Second Scroll by A.M. Klein
Napoleon Dynamite Quote Book (a gift from Sophia)

4. Books that mean the most?
Catcher in the Rye
Hamlet
Goodbye Colombus
The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz
The Handmaid’s Tale
The Royal Tenenbaums: A Screenplay
Guide to Microwave Cooking
Napoleon Dynamite Quotebook

5. Who’s next?
Mr. T, Debra, and anyone else who wants in.

Psycho Streetcar Freakout Party!

Not a speck of light is showing
So the danger must be growing
Are the fires of Hell a-glowing
Is the grisly reaper mowing

Yes, the danger must be growing
For the rowers keep on rowing
And they're certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing

Those are the immortal words of Willy Wonka, as sung by Gene Wilder in the original film (not to be confused with the new Tim Burton helmed production starring Johnny Depp). The lyrics are chanted when Wonka's boat goes on a freakish ride through a tunnel, filled with flashing lights and spooky imagery. The children aboard the vehicle scream in terror as they tear through the darkness. It happened again yesterday.

Sophia and I were travelling to Toronto's Centre Island, and in order to reach the docks, we had to ride a streetcar through an underground tunnel. A group of young daycamp kids climbed aboard as well. As we started moving through the tunnel, the driver began to ring his bell. Then he turned on his microphone and said:

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you look to your right, you will notice a rusty old wall, to your left, the same. Please keep all arms, legs, and other appendages in the vehicle at all times. Forward thrusters go!"

And with that, we boosted to a much faster speed and began to fire down the tracks at an incredible rate. Then the lights went off. And on. And off again. Everytime the driver hit the switch, he would shout "Warp one!" then "Warp two!", "Warp three!", and so it went. I believe we had about nine or ten warps overall.

The children were screaming in delight, as some of the more 'mature' riders sat in disbelief, fear, or some combination of the both. Soph and I cheered along with the kids and upon reaching our destination, we reluctantly disembarked from the most magical of streetcars. "Please turn your attention to the passengers leaving the vehicle. Wave goodbye, because you may never see them again." The children shouted their goodbyes, and as the funhouse on wheels sped off, I noticed the billboard it carried on its side. It was an advertisement for the new Willy Wonka film. Although the movie may be fun, nothing can top the sheer joy of experiencing some of that unbridled craziness within reality.


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Visiting the German consulate is fun!

I had the pleasure of going to the German consulate in Toronto recently, in order to drop off a form regarding my grandmother's Holocaust reparations. I did not know what to expect.

After waiting for technicians to fix the faulty elevators, I ascended to the seventeenth floor. Immediately to my left, there was a glass wall, and within that room it encased an enormous black eagle symbol on the wall with German text surrounding it, ending with the word 'Deutschland'. A German officer stood at the door. As the Holocaust survivors I shared the elevator with and I were divided into two groups, I realized the irony of it all. This uniformed German was about to send us in two different directions. It was selections!

I know, I know, I must have been overreacting. I'd agree with you if he hadn't numbered us as well. Yep. We each got a number. Luckily it was a piece of paper, and not the branding the other people there were wearing on their arms.

After stepping into another room, I went through a metal-detector and an officer inspected me for weapons. I seated myself between two elderly ladies, and tried to concentrate on the angry German televison show playing in the corner as the two women spoke over me in Yiddish. I decided to make some small-talk with one of the ladies in order to help pass the time:

Avi: So...which camps were you in?

Lady: A lot.

A: Oh. Uhh, so, do you have any kids?

L: No.

And that was my trip to the German consulate. I recommend the trip to anyone who feels like being pushed around by German officers and/or enjoys depressing conversations.

Zachor.

Israel - select pics - batch 3

To start off batch 3, here's a shot of a cat near Kever David. She was trying to nap when we showed up, but the gaggle of American tourists did not make that very easy.


Barry in Tzfat. This is the first of three shots of Barry in this batch of photos. Exciting, isn't it?


A weird statue at the children's section of the Israel museum. There is a slide on the back.


The Dalton Winery. While everyone was sipping their standard samples of chardonnay and merlot, the mashgiach hooked me up with an exquisite muscato. Simply delightful.


Singers perform on Yom Yerushalayim.


When hiking in Israel, it is always a good idea to avoid landmines.


Barry and his father's cousin, Rita Cohen. She is one generous, classy lady. When Barry and I stayed at her home in Ramat-Aviv, she and her husband Daniel treated us as if we were their own children. "I wish my parents treated me that way" Barry remarked.


Why do kaddish when you can do Kodak?


The hotel room that I shared with Noam Ami and Dave Shapero. It wasn't always this messy. I swear!


One of the Birthright guards. He went from being a soldier armed with an M-16 to being a hired guard armed with a pea-shooter. Thats gotta be rough.


"I love Massada THIIIIIIS much!"


Bedouin banjo breakdown.


Beauty.

A fourth batch of pics is coming through the pipeline. Check back regularly for more pics, as well as general Shul of Rock goodness.

Look to the future

The fact that our world is falling apart has become more apparent than ever in recent weeks as headlines choose to favour Tom Cruise's descent into madness over the real issues of the day (i.e: child slavery, nuclear threats, global warming). When we come close to confronting a serious issue, such as poverty in the developing world, we feel a need to gloss it over with celebrity and performance, such as the spectacle that has become Live 8. Why don't people just care? Because the general human population is ignorant at best, and heartless at worst.

I'm not trying to say that Live 8 is a bad idea. If it helps the current situation, that would be utterly wonderful. Unfortunately, once the final act performs their final song, and the lights begin to dim, the majority of the audience will return to their current disassociation with the starving masses in Africa, and the bands will do the same as they sneak back to their respective studios with the hopes of cranking out a new hit single. It's just a tad disconcerting, don't you think?

I'm not trying to moralize and present myself as an angelic and tireless crusader of the oppressed. I could be doing a lot more, and chances are that the same can be said for you. But if we don't, does that mean that we choose not to? If we claim it is a matter of laziness, then why do we find reserves of energy for our passions, but not for this? The likely answer is that we see benefit from helping ourselves, but we don't see the benefit in aiding others. There is great benefit in helping others, but the current crop of humans is not generally accustomed to looking so far ahead. That's why global warming and nuclear warfare will kill us. We don't choose to look that far into the future. We are too busy enjoying our present.