What's your Mood Enhancer--Food or Sunshine? ...And Hopes for a Sunny Inauguration

We each have something that gives us particular pleasure.

For my husband, it's food. His idea of a festive evening, or an escape, is to go out to eat at a restaurant. When he's in, say, New York, with its plethora of kosher restaurants, he carefully plans out which ones to try. When he describes his day on the road to me, the highlights are his descriptions of savory dishes; he names each item he ate and evaluates it, adding swoons where appropriate. When his meal, especially if expensive, isn't satisfying, he rues consuming it. Why add unworthy calories? Such a waste is more endurable, however, when someone else pays for it.

My particular happifier is good weather. If it's sunny, I'm happy; if it's warm and sunny, I'm downright manic. My energy doubles and my zest for whatever I'm doing soars. I can get almost obnoxious raving about a beautiful day, pointing out the magnificence of everything I see. My son is like that, too. When the winter arrives with its late sunrise and early darkness, with its constant shroud of gray, I push myself with affirmations.

Last week brought Seattle record downpours. Rivers overflowed their banks; houses washed away. Driving on some freeways caused foot-deep puddles to wash over cars like tidal waves, blinding drivers. I must have heard from ten people during this deluge, with anticipation in their voices, "but the weatherman says it's supposed to be clear next Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday!"

Even Barack Obama could not have instilled more hope than the weatherman's prediction. But I suspect that the longing aroused by both prognosticators have similar likelihoods of fulfillment. This Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday were dreary and dark, with gray cloud-blankets emitting occasional drizzle, and short sunbreaks too brief to budge disappointment.

Meanwhile, my husband, in Washington, DC, reported a bright and sunny day that mirrored the capital's excitement and eagerness for the new Presidency. Brilliance outdoors energizes and enlivens, enhancing the festivities that welcome a fresh approach. If it were, say, 75 degrees outside instead of 10, that enthusiasm would expand even further.

Interestingly, yesterday I was fortunate to attend a get-together of a women's education group comprised of mainly conservative women. We heard a superb speaker tell of her frustrations as a US government appointee in media relations charged with making sure news outlets know about our humanitarian efforts in the mid-east and Asia. After the talk, as the group disbursed, I overheard two ladies: "I hope there's a blizzard for Obama's inauguration!" one snickered. "Yes, a blizzard so thick and cold we don't have to watch him take the oath of office!" the other replied with a chuckle.

Meanwhile, President Bush offered his farewell address tonight. It was sweet and poignant and gracious. Perhaps the aspect of his character I admire most is his determination to follow a moral course without regard to polls or pressure, and with sole regard to values girded by his religious faith. My favorite part of his speech was:

"...America must maintain our moral clarity. I've often spoken to you about good and evil, and this has made some uncomfortable. But good and evil are present in this world, and between the two of them there can be no compromise. Murdering the innocent to advance an ideology is wrong every time, everywhere. Freeing people from oppression and despair is eternally right. This nation must continue to speak out for justice and truth. We must always be willing to act in their defense -- and to advance the cause of peace."

Even though President-elect Obama won with his mantra of "eight years of failed presidency" he's soon going to see that a president's choices are shaped by experts' briefings, and that the facts will push his actions not so very far from President Bush's. I do hope the new administration can begin with a sunny day.

Which brings me back to my theory that each of us has his or her own special mood enhancer. Beside my husband's joy in food, and my reliance on good weather, other than the obvious sources of well-being (eg health, children safe, financial stability) what elevates your mood?

As I look out my window to see...well, nothing, as it's dark and densely foggy, I take comfort in knowing that here in the Northwest, things are always changing. The only reliability our weatherman has is in being wrong. And perhaps that, too, brings a smile, because there's nothing quite as much fun as a surprise.

The White House Chanuka celebration I wasn't Invited to...

Click here for the White House video of the ceremony preceding the Chanuka party I attended. President Bush celebrates the 60th Anniversary of the creation of the State of Israel as well as Chanuka with a little speech. Then the menorah is lit, with a symbolic blessing (since Chanuka won't begin until Sunday night) by the grandsons of President Truman, who received the menorah, and Israel's first prime minister Ben-Gurion. This was indeed the menorah that I took pictures of...and because it has squat little candles inside glass holders, assumed was lit by electricity! Oops!
You'll also hear the group Kol Zimra, with my friend Sam Glaser (the tall guy on the far right in the video). After an interesting event I'll describe in my post tomorrow, my son was asked to join the group! You can read the text of President Bush's remarks (which were distributed to guests, including us, at party's end) here.

Mr. Bush was the first and only President to host a White House Chanuka reception. A topic of discussion with fellow party-goers was whether President-elect Obama will continue the annual event. Most of those to whom I spoke thought he'd have to--but then does that mean there will be an annual Muslim holiday event, too? How about a plaque-presentation by the atheists dissing all religious observances (like we have in our Washington state capitol)? Or will Obama, who has in the past said he favors dividing Jerusalem, choose not to honor America's friendship with Jews and Israel?

By the way, the spelling of Chanuka in English is a phonetic approximation of the Hebrew word, so whatever spelling you like, works. I use the "Ch" to represent the throat sound of the letter Chaf. Some people don't even bother with that non-English sound and just use an "H". I have no idea why some spellings have a double "k."

Chanuka in the White House

Just got back from my whirlwind trip to DC for the President's Chanuka party. So quick it seems like a dream. I'm always amazed and awed that we can step into a metal tube, sit down with a book, a newspaper or just a blow-up neck pillow and emerge in just a few hours on the other side of the country.

I'll post more later, but I gave much thought to my golden moments of conversation with the President. Realizing that I was there not really because of what I've done, but because of my husband's accomplishments, I first said that he regretted that his book tour kept him from attending. I said the name of the new book, and the President lit up and replied, "I've got to get a copy; I want to read that book!" and asked how my husband was. After my son shook his hand, the President told him, "Your father's a good man!" I then added that I wanted to thank him for keeping our nation safe since 9-11. He was most gracious. As was Mrs. Bush, who took my hand in both of hers, and looked me in the eye--not a perfunctory pass, but a pause, as I told her "Thank you Mrs. Bush; I appreciate all you do." She thanked me and said "Happy Chanuka." I remember during the photo that the President had his arm loosely behind my back--and so I (awkwardly, without touching, really,) reached behind his, thinking I might be making a faux pas.

It seemed this time that the guests dressed a bit less formally (I'll admit it: I wore the same outfit I wore last time, but with comfy shoes) and that the buffets laid on tables in several rooms were a bit less lavish than the first Chanuka party I'd attended in 2006. Not that the occasion was diminished by it--but I thought, perhaps incorrectly, that this might be a small acknowledgement of the economic situation.

Rather than the four types of latkes (small veggie pancakes) we enjoyed last visit, this time there was just traditional potato-onion, each the size of a half-dollar. In case you're interested, the rest of the main course buffet included: rolled slices of lox, the most delicious white flaky fish, small riblets from lamb (I was told) with the meat pushed down to one end (no knives were offered, so I supposed we were to eat the meat off by lifting bone to lip), some kind of sliced beef (brisket?), and rolled stuffed slices of white meat turkey. There was a veggie and lettuce salad, and a grilled vegetable tray with olives.

One cannot complain about such a generous spread at the White House. At the dessert tables, there were chocolate truffle balls, small fruit tarts, tiny sufganiot (doughnuts, filled with custard rather than the traditional jelly), a chocolate-frosted white cake, and tiered tray of various cookies. Now you know the entire repast. My memory was of waiters bringing tray after tray to replace depleted tables throughout the 2 1/2 hour event.

The White House was decorated in its Christmas finery. The theme was "a red, white and blue Christmas," though wouldn't that always be de rigeur? In the center of Blue Room was a huge tree with fat ornaments representing each state; in the other halls, and we had free roam of about six large rooms upstairs, were other live trees more modestly attired in bows or round glass balls. Holly garlands were everywhere; red velvet ribbons and holiday trinkets in every nook.

Music was beautifully supplied first by a 20-voice men's acapella choir called Kol Zimra (among whom was popular singer Sam Glaser, a friend of ours) and then by the excellent Marines Orchestra; they each performed every traditional Chanuka piece in the repertoire.

I did think it odd (as I did on my first visit) that for a Chanuka party, the tables were festooned with red tablecloths and small fir or topiary trees with glass ornaments. Though Mr. and Mrs. Bush both wore blue, the rest of the environment was completely in Christmas colors. The only nod to the occasion in the decor was a small silver menorah on a windowsill, and a larger one with all "candles" ablaze (with electric lights) in the oval entry at the top of the stairs. Our friend Sam told us that prior to the party, in a small reception where his group entertained, the President and Mrs. Bush presided over a "menorah lighting" by the grandsons of David Ben-Gurion, Israel's first prime minister (Clifton Truman Daniel and Yariv Ben-Eliezer), who together lit a menorah given by their grandfather to President Truman. This was clearly symbolic--Chanuka doesn't start until Sunday night.

As you can see, I did bring my camera, though I stupidly left my spare battery behind. I've got some surprises about the evening yet to share...but it's quite late and I've got to get my son to school early...

More than a Salute

When I saw this photo in my local Seattle Times today (it's from yesterday's paper--AP photo by Haraz N. Ghanbari), it brought a tear to my eye. Here's the caption: "President Bush kisses Marine Corps Lance Cpl. Marc E. Olson, of Coal City, Ill., on Tuesday at the White House. At left is Lance Cpl. Patrick Paul Pittman Jr., of Savannah, Ga. The two Marines were hurt when a suicide bomber attacked their entry-control point in Ramadi, Iraq. Pittman, who uses a wheelchair, stood for the photo with Bush. The two were serving with Company A, 2nd Amphibian Assault Battalion attached with the 2nd Batallion, 9th Marines."

My heart and gratitude goes to the Marines. And next week I get to shake the hand of this President. Look at his face. I am truly moved.

What Should I Say to the President?

I was hoping this might come through--an invitation to the White House! THAT White House, the one soon to be occupied by Barack and Michelle.

The Bushes are hosting a Chanuka party next week, and I'll be there, with my son as my escort (my husband being busy on book tour).

This is not the first time President and Laura have invited me--two years ago my husband and I excitedly attended the Chanuka festivities, an evening that now in my mind is the kind of twinkly blur that children carry of the glint of glass balls and sparkle of tinsel that comprises the essence of December magic.

Last time, however, I made a couple of mistakes. Firstly, I decided to take the advice of my fashion-forward teen daughter and borrow her very high-heeled shoes. Little did I know the amount of walking one needs to do from the security checkpoint up the long drive to the imposing columned porch, down the receiving hallway and into the inner sanctum of the living quarters. I was not only wobbling, but shortly, limping, the ill-fitting pumps slipping off my heels. I was in pain while being serenaded by a military orchestra, and tottering between room-length buffets of kosher delicacies, the likes of which I'd never fathomed, despite years of Passover resort getaways. (Most vivid in my mind were the tables of pastries so intricately assembled, petits-four drawn with Stars of David or dreidls or other mini-artworks, swirled with chocolate or raspberry or whipped cream so sculpted you'd think it had to be fake.)

My second mistake was in thinking that security would surely prohibit visitors from bringing in their cameras--so I left mine in my hotel. Wrong, wrong, wrong. While other guests were happily snapping photographic remembrances of each heirloom ornament and thrilling encounter with friends and dignitaries, I internally fumed, mentally kicking myself with pointed, painful stiletto at every glimpse of another once-in-a-lifetime-seen artifact, or introduction to someone I'd previously only read about in the newspaper.

Each couple or guest could line up for a photo with the President and First Lady, and the preceding moments allowed a personal greeting and a few exchanged words with the POTUS. Such an opportunity! As I stood in queue, inching forward, adrenaline rising, I kept revising what I would say. "Thank you for all you do for Israel and the Jewish people" was far too unoriginal. "We appreciate you," way too obvious. When it was finally my turn, Mr. Bush took my hand, I looked him in the eye and...what did I say? "Please come to us for Shabbat! We'd be honored if you and Mrs. Bush would come to our home for a Sabbath meal."

I instantly felt very stupid.

To my relief, he not only smiled, but said yes, he'd like to do that. Perhaps when he's got more free time, after January 20, he'll fulfill that acceptance. And now I've got a chance not only to remind him, but to schedule it.

Um, probably not. However, I better start planning what I'm going to say when I see President and Mrs. Bush at the Chanuka party, right now. Any suggestions?