Thank g-d for Jeff Goldblum

Never Done: Walked 2 blocks to the movies

We had our Mussar Va'ad last night, and I was reminded of something I had forgotten. The idea behind this practice -- of doing something daily that I've never done before, and saying the Shehekhianu (which I've been remembering to say more often) is traditionally framed as a chosen mitzve practice. The mitzves are the commandments (mitzvot in Sephardic pronunciation) -- the 613 statements and principles of laws and ethics contained in the Torah. The 613 mitzves are incredibly interesting to study. Some of them are completely relevant to being a contemporary ethical person, and some of them are not any longer. Examples of ones that I find relevant -- and in some cases, incredibly moving:

Not to take revenge
Not to bear a grudge
Not to embarrass others
Not to oppress the weak
To release the mother bird if she was taken from the nest (I really love this one.)
Judges must not accept bribes
The king must not have too many horses
Not to sell her into slavery

Some of them are, to me, subjective and/or random. With these, I think it's interesting to learn/study/discover what the actual intent is behind them. Like:

Not to engage in astrology
Not to imitate them in customs and clothing
Not to go into a trance to foresee events

Some of them I disagree with. Strongly:

Men must not wear women's clothing
Women must not wear men's clothing
Not to marry non-Jews
The rapist must marry the maiden

And many I find to be better left to personal choice. These tend to be the ones which are most explicitly about religious observance:

To examine the signs of fish to determine between kosher and non-kosher
To rest on the seventh day
To put a mezuze on each door post

These are but a few examples, of course. I've given them here to help me examine my chosen daily mitzve practice -- to do something every day I've never done, and to say the Shehekhianu. This is not one of the 613 mitzves, but maybe it should replace one of the 613 that I don't think belong. The only mitzve I could find that relates to mine is this:

He who has taken a wife, built a new home, or planted a vineyard is given a year to rejoice with his possessions.

Not that a wife is a possession or anything. Still, I sort of like this one. It says to me, Go ahead. Enjoy what is new in your life, but after a while, it's not new anymore, so you should probably go out and find something else new to rejoice.

Speaking of which ... The new apartment is perfectly situated between a gym and a movie theater, two of my favorite pastimes. Walking home from Mussar Va'ad, Dana, Josh, and I came upon the marquee of the Park Slope Pavilion, lit up for the late show, and on a whim went to see if anything was just starting. It was 9:45 PM, and as luck would have it, a show was starting at 9:45. Now, I've been to this theater many times before, but not since moving 2 blocks away, and also not since the movie theater bed bug scare. For two weeks, I've put Walk to Pavilion on my Never Done list, and for two weeks, I haven't gotten over my bedbug apprehensions. Maybe it was the perfect timing, maybe it was the new street couch, but Josh and I went in (Dana went home) and had a great time watching a pretty bad movie (Morning Glory.) We would have gone in to see anything at that moment -- it really was about the timing -- but all I can say is thank g-d for Jeff Goldblum. (Is that one of the 613 mitzves? Thank g-d for the super-talented Jew who played a hot alien in my all-time favorite romantic comedy, Earth Girls are Easy?)

Other than JG, the best, very best, really great part about seeing Morning Glory at the Pavilion was that it took less than 5 minutes to walk home. Shehekhianu!


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Free to a good home: 0% bedbugs

Never done: Free couch

It was the end of the workday, and it had been an intense work day at that -- with a last-minute request to re-write a grant proposal for a film I am involved with, on top of regularly-schedule work. I really wanted to come through on the last-minute request, and prioritized it over other work for the second half of the day, and ended up quite pleased with what I accomplished.

I had made plans with Josh to go to a 7 PM movie (it was going to be the Never Done du jour, to walk 1 block to the Pavillion) but was just finishing writing at 6:45, and I couldn't imagine sitting in a chair any longer, so I negotiated a switch in plans to go to the gym instead. The negotiation was lengthy, and morphed into secondary and terciary negotiations (do we eat first? should we go to a later movie, even it's a Tyler Perry movie?) and eventually we left the apartment, Josh having eaten, and me not, and headed to the gym. We got a half a block away, and there was a beautiful, perfect-green, feather couch, with a sign taped to it that said, FREE TO A GOOD HOME. 0% BEDBUGS.

Regular readers might remember that when we moved into this apartment, the couch didn't fit in the door, so we have been sans sofa for a few weeks. So we were, in fact, in the market for a new couch. If it had said "no bedbugs" I would have walked past. But it said "0% bedbugs" and the definitive nature of that declaration made me stop and think -- is it true? Is it safe? How long has it been out on the street? I don't even pick up free books off the street anymore, since my friend told me that's where bedbugs go to hang out when they're not in the bed. We started to inspect it -- it looked pretty great, but ..... when two guys came out of a nearby apartment, and we asked them if they knew anything about it. Why, yes they did. They had tried to give it away through Craigslist, but people kept flaking on them, so they had just, not ten minutes earlier, brought it to the street. They had just bought a newer, bigger, purpler couch. And really, there are no bedbugs.

So they helped us carry it down the block, and even helped us maneuver it into the apartment, where it fit perfectly, looks wonderful with the rug, and clashes with the walls. I love it. And I learned, once again, that even when there aren't enough hours in the day to do everything on my list, accepting my limitations can bring me exactly where I am meant to be.