Pages

Thursday, December 26, 2024

Course Selections


OLLI issued its Spring 2025 Catalog.  From it I expect to commit to five courses.  Having done this a few times, I've generated an experience related system, though not a perfect one.  First some rules.  No classes after 2PM.  No classes that exceed the 75 minutes allotted for most lecture format options.  Many performance, art, and movie sessions are longer.  Passover needs only one Monday absent.  Classes end before Shavuot.  That means no accommodation for Yom Tovim, which greatly impacted my selections for last semester.

Next create a 5 x 3 grid.  M-F horizontally, early AM, late AM, Early PM vertically.  Then just go through the catalog page Iby page, filling the grid possibilities as I go.  Now some criteria.  I prefer live courses to Zoom sessions, so first only classes held near my home.  There are some excellent classes downstate where many talented retirees have relocated.  Reconsider those as a parallel zoom option later along with other online only classes. First I need to be with other people.  The pandemic took its toll on social interaction.  At one time people would gather in the lounge, have lunch in the cafeteria.  All imploded.  Even the live classes, people come for their session and go home.

Then page by page, subject by subject, I jot anything of interest onto my time grid.  By now I have favorite instructors.  I've also had teachers not up to the task, over even offensive.  Those don't go onto the grid.  The course selection exposes something about me.  I like information.  I dislike people subjecting me to their agendas and buzzwords.  I am not an  oppressor.  I resent any hints that my personal success and background detracts from my decency.  There are courses like that in the catalog.  I don't register for those.  I can only realistically take five.

As my grid fills, I will have some choices.  It takes about twenty minutes each way to drive to campus.  I have taken classes that fill all three slots on a given day.  On those days, I pack lunch, put my computer and charging cord in a backpack, and plan to spend the day on-site.  It's been burdensome, so more likely I will limit a single day to two classes, and not an early and late one with a big time gap between.  Zoom courses from the campus do not always access well.  If I have Zoom and site courses the same day, I will need to be able to travel between them.

It is also possible that I will be closed out of a limited enrollment selection.  Take my time.  Visit the January Open House.  Complete the grid. Pare to five.

Tuesday, December 24, 2024

No Eagles Hat


Been a difficult few days, maybe a bit longer.  Various frustrations with computer failures, car delayed at body shop, an infection running through the family.  I am unable to keep up with housekeeping.  Also losing things.

Went to Shop-Rite, bulk shopping.  Forgot to put my bread into the bag so I had to run to TJ on short notice to replace it, but at least with a better bread.  It being very cold with a coating of grainy sleet on the driveway and car this morning, I dressed in my warmest nylon parka and knit cap.  The cap evaporated somewhere along the way.  I sifted through the clutter of the rooms I had occupied.  It did not appear.  Nobody turned it into Shop-Rite's Lost & Found, nor did I see it as I retraced my path in their parking lot.  Sometimes replacement is the way to go.

I drove onward to Marshall's nearby, intending to come home with a top of the line Eagles knit hat.  They had been displayed by the dozens if not hundreds during the holiday season.  Knit caps galore remained, including one of 80% wool.  Warm was priority.  I got that.  But I saw no Eagles caps.  In my town, everyone wears one, much like all Satmars wear the same black fedoras.  

I brought my purchase to the cashier, offered my credit card, and took the receipt.  I asked her about Eagles caps, having seen the ample supply recently.  She informed me that everyone who came to her register in the past week had something Eagles, either cap, mug, water bottle.  Not much left, and zero caps.

Not believing how popular these were, or how much I would be willing to pay extra to get one, I drove a mile north to their corporate partner TJ Maxx.  Sold out there too.  I had other options.  Target and Dick's in the same shopping complex, Boscov's in the next one.

There is a compulsive me and a practical me.  The price of an Eagles hat will drop very soon.  Maybe after the holidays.  For sure when they lose in the playoffs.  And if they become Super Bowl Champs once again, a real possibility, the price will drop when Eagles Fever stuff has to clear for Phillies merchandise.  I can wait.  The cap I purchased, 80% wool, will keep my scalp warm.  And the missing one might eventually turn up.

Monday, December 23, 2024

Sharing a Bug


It's not often that I postpone a scheduled platelet donation, but I did,  For the safety of the recipients, many of whom are immunosuppressed or on chemotherapy, the donor center asks people not to come when ill.  While haven't registered a fever with my home thermometer, chills have taken hold.  I spent last night sleeping in a recliner so my cough does not disturb my wife, whose symptoms predated mine by one day.  To stay warm, I've huddled in a blanket, afforded myself a few minutes in a steamy shower, then returned to the down comforter.  I arose twice in addition to shower and bathroom needs.  The cat needed,  care.  I needed calories.  My wife has not arisen from bed all day.  Her cough has evolved to productive.

Other than the chills, maybe slight nausea, and an intensely exaggerated disgust sensation that usually appears when I open wet cat food, I don't feel that badly.  Not achy except in calves.  No rigors.  A cough with scant production. No chest or abdominal pain.  It was a treadmill day.  Not wise.

I assume my wife and I share the same illness, time shifted by one day.  It gives me a small heads up for tomorrow's expectation.  No platelet donation.  I'll decide if I can venture to the supermarket to get a few things for Hanukkah.  And very iffy for the synagogue's Hanukkah/Christmas Chinese Food and a Movie.

Priority:  maximize recovery.


Sunday, December 22, 2024

Kosher at Aldi


With some fanfare, a new Aldi opened along the corridor where I purchase groceries. Aldi, never Aldi's, per company insistence.  The string of food stores begins with Trader Joe's to the north, then Shop-Rite, my principal store with best prices and largest Kosher selection.  Across from that sits Sprouts, usually the best produce and a large section of coffee beans with specialty grinder, though higher in price.  Further south on the Sprouts side of the highway sits a Giant, where I get my prescriptions.  And the new Aldi opened across from that, with an Acme, the most ubiquitous chain in my region, a mile south of that.  Kosher means Shop-Rite and Trader Joe's.

Yet Aldi has enough uniqueness that I had to see what's there.  For sure, Kosher is not on their radar, yet not absent either.  The chain, an international one headquartered in Germany, boasts lowest prices.  Many podcasts explain their business strategy.  As the videos claim, my local Aldi has a lot less floor space than all the others except perhaps Trader Joe's.  Shopping carts are rented for an American quarter inserted into a slot.  There are no designated shopping cart return aisles scattered through the small parking lot.  Return the cart to the front and the quarter deposit will pop out of the slot.  Aldi sells many fewer products than the others but at least some variety of things that shoppers will want.  Produce introduces the shopper at the front entrance.  Basic stuff:  grapes, cucumbers, mushrooms.  Most fruits and vegetables come in small packages.  No bins to choose your own apples or onions and weigh at the cash register.  Of packaged goods, proprietary house-label packed products are often the only option.  Breads and pastries have some variety.  Snack foods nearly all private label.  Pastas take many shapes but few brands.  Cereals  have the popular choices, nearly all private label.  Same with spices.  One aisle, much publicized, are non-food items which seem a good value for the purchasing agents to acquire in bulk, then discount to shoppers.  I did not find a theme to what got offered in that aisle on any of my three excursions.   At the back, a refrigerated section with cheese and meats.  Two frozen areas, one a reach-in bin, the other a freezer with a door.  Positioned appropriately as the last stop before the checkout registers, which are nearly all scan your own.

What about the Kosher consumers like myself?  Kosher is not on their radar but other than meat, a reasonably varied and nutritious diet can be assembled.  Fresh produce needs no certification.  The selection is more than ample for a healthy diet.  Baked goods have Kosher marks on many labels.  Some are regional Hechshers that might not have universal acceptance.  Not all the loaf breads specifically indicate pareve.  Packaged bagels are not what you get up early on a Sunday morning to get fresh from the oven.  And not all undercut the prices charged by the other chain markets that line the highway.

Snacks are more mixed.  Potato chips, all house brand, all carry an international certification and come in varieties.  Many other snacks with an OU or similar at the competing markets have no certification at all.    Nor do many of the spices.  Olives are hit-and-miss, pickles mostly hit.  Cheese came as a pleasant surprise.  They are often hard to qualify as kosher.  A few in the refrigerated case did.  Yogurt came as another pleasant surprise.  Much with an OU, about a third less in price from other places.  Cereal largely Kosher.  To my disappointment, the canned fish, sardines, tuna, and the like, with universal kosher indication from the other markets, often lacked this tag on the cans at Aldi.

I think it would be difficult for Aldi to displace Shop-Rite as the destination supermarket for those of us with kosher households, at least if we live in places with an abundance of markets.  There are some of us who live in more isolated areas or have restrained budgets that will find the prices attractive and the array of kosher-certified products adequate.  Though Kosher is definitely not a business priority for the company.

Friday, December 20, 2024

Not a Lunch Person


It's been a while since I went out for lunch.  On occasion I will treat myself to a slice of pizza, usually eating it in the car.  But a restaurant where somebody serves me, or I eat at a counter or go to a buffet, not in a very long time.  I think I got a hoagie at one of my favorite places near OLLI once during the semester.  I never ate at the cafeteria there.  When WaWa has its hoagiefests, a large one for $6, they can count on me for a couple of tuna or cheese creations during the promotion.  Those I order at a kiosk, pay at the auto cashier, and take the sandwich back to my car.

While on my two vacations this year, we ate generously at the hotel breakfast buffets and searched the online menus for dinner.  I don't recall having lunch.  I did the year before when visiting the Smithsonian.  Food trucks line up outside the museums.  Better falafels than I can get at home, and the rock-bottom motel at the end of the Metro did not offer breakfast.  Even there, I walked from the food truck to a place where I could sit down, perhaps a bench or the ledge of a stone wall.  Not a table or a counter.  No server to tip.  The only exception to my eating pattern might be a cruise, last taken six years ago.  Cruises have round-the-clock food for the taking.  Breakfast has a uniqueness.  Lunch and supper at the buffet do not, but unless returning late from a port outing, I reserve supper for the main dining room with service and assigned table companions.  When out in port for the day, I do not purchase food, preferring to exploit the pre-paid excess when I return to the ship.

My car being in the shop, I have a rental.  I don't want to bring food there and risk a cleanup fee.  My morning treadmill schedule discourages going out for breakfast on treadmill days.  I considered breakfast on yesterday's off-day but really did not want to venture out on a cold morning.  I would try lunch the next day.  It did not go well.  I considered a few common mid-day escapes from the years when I had my office nearby.  Too expensive.  My credit card would not bounce, but $13 for the ordinary exceeded my willingness to pay.  On Friday, the Farmer's Market has lots of food vendors, including one that I always found appealing, along with other places that have end of week specials.  Or I could go to WaWa or Sprouts, get a sandwich, and drive it over to a regional park to eat.

I kept my pledge to myself, opting for a Fish Fry special at a diner I sometimes choose for breakfast.  Lots of food, though salty.  Good price for entree, which also included a generous salad.  Soda a bit costly.  Service good.  Tab with about 40% tip, $22.  

Still not a lunch person.


Wednesday, December 18, 2024

Mixed Jewish Leadership

 


For a while I've dabbled with the Hartman Institute's publicly available programs.  This organization is based in Israel, founded by a visionary named David Hartman z"l and continued by his son.  It has grown, along with other Jewish educational enterprises such as Mechon Hadar in NY or the 92nd Street Y in NY.  Materials are written and audiovisual, largely available on a computer, and mostly free.  Subscribers number in the thousands.  Presenters have upgraded people's minds in unique ways.  It reflects perhaps the biggest success of organized Judaism in my adult lifetime.  There are also variants.  The Mesorah Heritage Foundation publishes translated Jewish texts under the Artscroll label along with an array of books from biographies to Kosher cookbooks.  Sefaria has compiled massive amounts of texts which it presents to anyone with internet access.  Aish HaTorah has ventured into engaging people into Jewish culture through the internet.  All these efforts require professionals of various types.  Scholars, tech experts, fundraisers.  All have risen to the challenge.

In its Sources Journal, the Hartman Institute dedicated its most recent issue to leadership.  The magazine, available for free online, invited several Rabbis to comment on their experience and models for running thriving Jewish agencies.  All probably accurate.  Where it fell short, I think, is describing what is really a bubble populated by upper-tier talent.  Like many others, I partake of what they offer.  But I've functioned far outside that restricted inner circle.  My interactions bring me into contact with lay volunteers, local Rabbis, agencies run as fiefdoms, often with a leadership that expresses more entitlement than accountability.  And often with Leadership Generated Attrition instead of growth.

One advantage of reaching three-score and ten is that others of my generation know how our adult Jewish lifetimes turned out. Few of us held public positions.  Most of us dealt with people of title, a very mixed experience on the receiving end.  Perhaps it started with Hebrew School where obedience will get a kid on the Honor Roll more than intellect would.  As a youngster of the Eisenhower-Kennedy era, the elders of synagogue and community organizations appeared to be men, with pockets like Sisterhood or Hadasssah reserved for women, who developed businesses or maybe earned a university title or rabbi, or for the ladies, married well.  My parents and my generations were no longer dominated by the builders, those bonayich of the prayer before Aleynu, but their proteges, the bawnayich.  They too often functioned as managers, the inheritors who value expediency. They were not the creators.  The legacy agencies that we have now started in the World War I era, not very different from the Scouts, NAACP, or labor unions that trace their origins to those years.  I found officials who operate more as gatekeepers, leaders who stratify who can serve on a committee and whose place is to stuff envelopes.  Likely alumni of the USY Cliques of the 1960s, my formative years, who succeeded by keeping discord at arm's length, though at a high price when amiable excludes prickly talent or shy teens, maybe even some experiencing depression or loneliness.  We nurtured leaders who get Aliyot on Rosh Hashanah, hug each other but rarely shook my peasant hand as their 30-ish Torah reader.

Twenty-first century Judaism has had its glories.  People studying Torah as resources expanded, a mostly vibrant Israel, Hechsher expansion.  It has also had its failures, the attrition of synagogue membership, waning market demand for Kosher butchers, and as Shira Telushkin outlined in her The Atlantic essay, the inability of traditional youth pipelines, Ramah, USY, Hillel, to supply our flagship seminaries with students.  https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2024/02/american-rabbi-shortage-synagogues-denominations/677423/  At the local level, I have seen my share of leadership misconduct.  A Rabbinical non-renewal by three machers pooling their resources to buy out the contract privately to bypass a congregational discussion.  I have given money to Swarthmore Hillel when Hillel International blackballed them.  One leadership essay in that issue of The Source touched on the dark side, which never quite gets ownership.

Like most retired professionals, we acquired competing models of leadership for comparison, whether my medical experience or those retired from universities and corporations.  I think in my medical sphere, leaders conveyed appreciation with obligations to patients and doctors.  My Jewish leaders, at synagogue and Federation, seemed more entitled to the positions they held. Fellow docs sought my talent or consensus.  Fellow Jews sought my compliance or my funds.  In late life, people can tell the difference.  Mid-life thriving people authored the two essays.  The series could have benefited from an essay by a senior leader who struggled to change relationships and bring a lagging agency back upwards or needed to extricate himself from an unfavorable experience.  That's not what the editor chose to present.  It does not misrepresent the upper tier of Jewish leadership, but it very much skews that middle tier which serves as our interface with synagogues and agencies of worthy purpose.




Monday, December 16, 2024

Fewer Hechshers


Seasonal Holiday Shopping.  After decades of doing this, a pattern has emerged.  Wife gets eight gifts, each of three children four.  To make shopping smoother, particularly for my wife, I've created categories.  Each person gets an edible.  It must be in a box that can be wrapped and mailed, though I have wrapped circular jars.  And it must be Kosher.  While the kids may have departed from this, any food that I give must be acceptable to me.

Gift treats come in a lot of forms.  Candy, jellies, sauces, coffee, tea, pastries with long shelf life.  National brands, those from the mega corporations, invariably carry a Kosher certification with a symbol that I recognize.  Smaller producers are less consistent, but kosher options are readily available, though less so this year and perhaps last.

My usual source has been Marshall's which buys overruns and a nearby farmer's market.  Marshall's across from an even larger Costco has an enormous seasonal selection.  I have found many products where I used to expect that Kosher mark no longer have one.  Truly seasonal items like those potpourri of sweets in big container rarely do.  Neither do the regional hot sauces or some of the specialty candies that appear only for the Christmas season.  But what I have found this shopping interval has been the absence of certification from many items I had purchased in prior years.  If it is manufactured in Turkey, the Kosher ID has disappeared in the last year or two.  Belgian chocolates or other sweets sourced in Europe no longer carry an imprint on their box.  Italian edibles, once a sure thing, have become inconsistent.  The Far Eastern seasonal items no longer seem to carry certification. However, for year-round dietary staples, the Rabbi from the Orthodox Union still travels far and wide to inspect facilities.  Down Under maintains their certifications, often regional to New Zealand and Australia.  While there aren't specific African products, they would not be able to sell their chocolate, vanilla, or related commodities to the international conglomerates without attention to Kosher.

So why the paucity?  Over the years, from international sources, I've noticed that products that have Arabic ingredient lists often do not have the certification that the same product from the same manufacturer would have with English ingredient lists.  I often encounter those products in Dollar Stores.  But more recent decisions by the manufacturers to forgo a Rabbi's approval seems more questionable.  I understand smaller producers not wanting to pay inspection fees that international conglomerates would judge nominal, particularly when the Kosher market for those products is small.  The disappearance of what was from the European sweets strikes me as perhaps more a political statement.  

As I shopped, Marshall's had Baklava, Halvah, and Turkish Delight.  Jews happen to like these, as they are sweet and usually dairy-free.  I had never seen Halvah that was not Kosher before.  All products of Turkey or Greece, some of which I've purchased as gifts in previous years.  Same with the Belgian chocolates.  Shells or shapes usually makes a suitable gift for somebody on my list.  Always been kosher until this year.  

Perhaps I am too cynical.  Mass manufacturing processes change as factories become automated.  Maybe the production requires oils or greases or preservatives of animal sources.  But the regional nature of what used to announce itself as Kosher but no longer does, makes me wonder if this is one more global anti-Semitic expression.  Don't sell to observant Jews who are nearly all Zionists.  Or don't antagonize a much larger Anti-Zionist market throughout Europe, the Middle East, and beyond.

Perhaps somebody knows for sure if Kosher has been politically weaponized.

Friday, December 13, 2024

Finding a Respite

Even in retirement, I sometimes need a vacation.  That time approaches.  Only four months ago, I allotted a week to a long road trip, driving more than two thousand miles to visit a state where I'd not been before.  While I found the two end destinations refreshing, the drive took its toll on me as the driver and my wife as passenger.  On returning home, we each required treatment for Covid-19 acquired during the latter days of our travel.

With recovery slowly returning us to baseline, with Osher Institute on a month's intercession, I could use a briefer but more sedentary time away.  While it had been my intent to take a brief overnight trip in December, commitments did not permit that.  January mini breaks had a short track record.  For two or three nights, I would drive off by myself with some defined destination.  I visited Penn State during the region's deepest freeze, which kept some of the campus attractions closed.  One winter I went snow tubing at Camelback, then enjoyed a day in their indoor water park.  Another year I returned to the Poconos, this time seeking an afternoon at the Kalahari water park.  I stayed at budget hotels each time, though all with pools, but not always fully functioning pools.  For supper, I went to brew pubs.  One outing took me to a casino buffet, a great value with senior discount.

This winter, my mind returned more to hedonism.  What I envisioned resembled a stationary cruise ship.  Sign in.  Put luggage in room.  Get food. Change into resort attire for pool and hot tub.  Get more food.  Explore.  Go on treadmill.  Get more food.  Excursions optional.  Such land equivalents sort of exist in several forms.  Las Vegas does this.  So does Atlantic City, though less well.  I've been to such a place near Phoenix but I had to buy meals separately.  The excursion to Sedona needed a car rental with me as responsible driver, so not quite the cruise experience.  I've been to Pocono ski resorts as a day tripper.  They have water parks.  Snow tubing makes for a good excursion.  There are expensive overnight options, as the slopes need upkeep.  And there are premier resorts designed for people willing to spend much more than me, much as cruise ships have different tiers.

The best combination of economical, accessible pampering seemed Atlantic City, until you read the fine print.  This being off-season, the posted room rates are about half what I would pay for a standard motel on a road trip.  Just like ski slopes need maintenance, so do their theaters, aquatics, spas, and casinos.  Thus they add another $30 or so per night as a Resort Fee.  The casinos depend on day trippers who have to park their cars, so a daily fee for that, though less than what city parking facilities typically charge for 24 hours.  Even with these add-ons, I'm within budget.  Then the fine print.  Check-in times 5 or 6PM with a significant nuisance fee for early arrival.  That means the first night I pay for lodging without any access to the pools or spas, the purpose of the trip.  I don't find casinos particularly entertaining and the shows, unlike cruise shows, are not part of the registration fee.  So if I arrive Sunday and depart Tuesday, I would pay two nights but really only have one day of resort.  Or pay the early arrival fee and have one and a half days.  For a longer stay, that would be worth considering, for a quick escape, it's not.

That leaves me other alternatives.  Osher Institute and my wife's choral obligations drive my schedule.  Since it is pampering that I seek, and a cruise is the model, I could arrange a short cruise in the spring, either during the university break or after the semester concludes. There are now ports in driving distance during warm weather and flights to Ft. Lauderdale are plentiful and economical.  That better satisfies my intent.  I can continue to explore AC for another week, but a spring trip seems increasingly attractive.  I'm less willing to settle for less than a few days some authentic R&R, the very best imprints that previous experiences have put in my retrievable memory.



Wednesday, December 11, 2024

Big SUV


My car got whacked in a parking lot.  After dealing with the insurance, mine and the other driver's, I deposited my vehicle with a body shop that has done superior work for me before.  They estimated a week's work.  I still need to get around, so the shop contacted their nearby rental agency which transported me to their office a few minutes south on the same road.

I've been driving since 1967, had my own car since 1975.  My father had a massive suburban station wagon of that era, a car that he used for work.  It had a manual transmission, which I tried to learn to operate without ever acquiring proficiency.  Between the van's size and its transmission, I never drove it outside our own housing development.  All my cars have been four door sedans, as were the family cars before I acquired my own.  The brands varied.  Chevy, Ford, Mazda, Toyota, Honda, now back to Toyota.  All roughly the same size, except my Avalon which was slightly larger.

Rentals for vacations or while my car gets repaired always left me a bit skittish, as the car was never mine.  For most, I opted for minimum expense, which usually got me a vehicle one size down from mine.  I have had one minivan, obtained in San Juan on short notice when the original rental vehicle blew a tire on a pothole.  And I've had a few SUVs as they became popular, but always the model that corresponded in size to my own sedan.  I liked driving those as the higher seat placement offered a more expansive view of the road.  They were also my introduction to rear cameras, a feature on my current sedan that did not save me from the parking lot collision I just experienced.

Standing at the desk at the rental office.  It's a small operation, two or three employees at a built-in desk or counter with computers.  Very unlike the airport centers which have long lines, multiple attendants, business travelers concerned about timely arrival at their appointments, or kids needing car seats.  This site seemed more dependent on people like me whose personal car would be unavailable or needing to accommodate visiting family members.  They served as a satellite for their large company, getting their rental inventory from a hub located a half hour away.  At my arrival, they offered me a pick-up truck, with replacement to a more family type option when one became available.  I had never driven a pickup truck.  A drizzle fell intermittently.  I was really in no hurry to have a car.  They offered me a full-size Toyota Highlander.  To me it looked more like something the military might buy.  Too big.  Certainly a size up from any SUV I had ever rented previously.  I had their escort driver return me home a few miles away.  Later in the afternoon, I called back to see what had come in.  After being told of a more standard-sized SUV, my wife drove me back to the office to retrieve it.

Nissan Rogue.  Either last year or this year's model.  When I bought my current car three years ago, I considered mid-sized SUVs, and had a good experience with one I had rented on vacation.  This wagon at the rental site looked like something the military might want.  Too big for me, though the company offers an even larger one called a Pathfinder.  Before I could even drive it home, the rental attendant had to show me how to compensate for the absence of a key, parking brake, and transmission lever.  I just have to remember to keep the key fob in my pocket, never in the vehicle.  Adjusting the side mirrors took some trial and error, the rear mirror adjustment more of what fifty years on the road has made automatic for me.  I nudged it home with caution.

Then how to put more gas into it, something I will have to do.  The refill occurs on the passenger side, with that little arrow next to the gas tank on the dashboard indicating that.  I could not find a gas cap release anywhere.  The internet has made everything searchable.  The Google Auto Maven indicated that this model has no refill release.  You just press the little metal circle and it pops open.  And it has no gas cap, which is probably a good thing considering how many I have almost lost or forgot to screw back on.  It shuts automatically when the refill hose is removed, then just close the metal plate over it.

I do not anticipate storing anything in the rear compartment but it would still be good to know how to open the tail door.  No button apparent to me on the key fob or dash.  Back to the Google Auto Maven.  Apparently there are three ways to open this, one manual in case the battery fails.  Fob open + release tab near license plate is what most owners of this SUV do.

Not touched the electronic audio panel.  It seems hands-free phone is possible.  Don't know how to use the radio, or even if it has a radio.  AC I can figure out.  There is a knob that suggests climate control.  If I need it in the week or so I expecct to drive this, the Google Auto Maven will explain that knob.

Despite the car's size and unfamiliarity, there are things that register as an improvements over my sedan.  Since the seat is much higher, the front windshield visibility seems far greater.  I like the rear camera which displays automatically when the transmission goes in reverse.  It tracks the backward motion direction of the car.  The back mirror is less useful when driving backward.

My own rental needs arise only every few years.  I try to get a sedan like mine, usually one size smaller, like my wife's sedan.  Sometimes the rental inventory does not allow that.  I avoid cars appreciably larger than mine.  And with an unfavorable experience with fringe operators in Denver and Ft. Lauderdale with discounts but far off-site from the airport, I've learned to pay the extra fee for a few days and deal with a national company.

I tend to be very protective of borrowed cars, only driving them to destinations, rarely for leisure.  The destinations can be quite distant, like an airport regional hub to a national park, but no joy riding or unintended roads.  As I zip around near my home in this SUV, I will eventually get the feel for driving it.  Not on my future purchase aspirations, though.

Thursday, December 5, 2024

Mugged by Reality




Several years ago, pre-pandemic, as I compiled my semi-annual list of things I'd like to do in the upcoming half-year, I committed myself to purchasing two new subscriptions that would challenge my mental capacity.  After soliciting advice, some helpful, some perfunctory, I settled on paid electronic subscriptions to The Forward and The Atlantic.  I have maintained each on autopay ever since.  Each week I strive to read six pieces in The Atlantic and ten in The Forward, with reasonable adherence.  While The Forward specializes in news and commentary targeted to a Jewish audience, The Atlantic is more eclectic.  It has staff writers, some very experienced, some promoted to journalism's big leagues after time in the minors.  It has frequent contributors, usually people who hold professorships with areas of study.  Each day's edition, as the electronic version has new articles daily, includes one or more essays from independent contributors.  In the political year, politics dominates the daily content.  The editors make sure that its readers like me receive analytically driven opinions worthy of the college grads who subscribe.  As the American election results had little ambiguity, experienced political mavens went to work sorting out their pet conclusions as to why our ballot boxes reflected a clear preference for Republicans across geography and most demographic categories.  

Two members of a think tank, More In Common, addressed polarization as perceptions, some right, others I think erroneous.


Their op-ed asserts that Republicans prioritized their principal goals as a party, inflation control and immigration control.  As they campaigned, that was the message the voters received.  Democratic voters, when polled, set their top issues as inflation control and health care access.  Conceptually, there is very broad consensus on these concerns that does not segregate by party.  Everyone has either modified what they purchase from the grocery due to price, or at least grumble about what they perceive as cost exceeding value.  We all find our periodic doctor visits, or medical dependencies, a hardship in some way.  It could be economic costs of insurance or medicines, limited availability of appointments, doctors who look at screens instead of us, or concerns about how much of the medical care we get mismatched to what we really need.  People in some parts of the country feel the immediate impact of illegal border crossings more than others, but we've probably all encountered people from Latin America when we dine out or watch our neighbors have their yards upgraded.  Whether properly documented or not, we suspect that they cannot all be.  We live the same way irrespective of our political imprints.  We shop, travel, eat, go to work, drive on the highways beyond our own towns, have mixed feelings when we send our kids off to school each morning.  America offers a lot of common ground.  We all know, and pretty much agree on where the failures emerge, with some contention over who is at fault.

As the two authors note, with data to present, the perception of what the Democrats as a party aspire to deflects this common ground in favor of minority views.  Gender identity, ethnic entitlements, redress of historical wrongs, indignities of self with linkages to global groups with their grievances absorbed into our own.  That is not at all inflation control or health care.  Yet it hijacks the priority concerns, becoming subordinate to people with much smaller constituencies but more visible platforms.  Their essay focuses upon how issues of subordinate broad concern, indeed widespread unpopularity, became the disseminated face of the Democratic party.  Where the authors and I diverge is that they see this as a faulty perception.  I see it as a very accurate perception, one in keeping with my own personal experience, undoubtedly magnified throughout the American population by people just like me with parallel personal encounters.

On another personal semi-annual assessment, I concluded two years into retirement that I needed more human interaction.  The pandemic had just upended our lives.  My Senior Program at the state university where I mingled with others most weekdays had shut down.  Synagogue services paused, as Zoom was not an option for an Orthodox congregation on the Sabbath.  As I compiled twelve initiatives, I committed myself to joining two new organizations.  I had never engaged in formal politics, but my Representative District sought committee members.  I volunteered, gaining one of the two seats on that committee allotted to my voting location.  Great people.  We met monthly, mostly electronically.  On a few occasions, the elected officials arranged committee gatherings in a central location with refreshments and their presence.  Interesting, affable people.  The State Rep and Senator each had mental agility, an understanding of legislation, and a willingness to engage with nobodies like me.  We chatted about ourselves, about how to make schools more effective, why medical care has become more problematic for both doctors like me and patients like everyone else, about insecurities we shared with our changing world.  The 2020 election brought a Presidential change, one welcome to us, as most of us had met the new President when he represented us in the Senate.  The year also brought a US Census.  My polling place and the acreage it served would be shifted to a new State Representative as district lines were redrawn by the state legislature.  My seat would be shifted to the Committee of the new district, as the Democratic Party infrastructure apportions its committees by state representative.  Nobody contested my seat.  We met the first Monday of every month by Zoom.  However, our representative had no interest in engaging in committee meetings.  My Senator would remain the same, though she focused more on the previous district.  Another Senator had a territory partly within this district.  She came to the Zoom meetings, making a favorable impression. As a school teacher, she had interest and familiarity with public education, a big item in the state budget and top concern of many citizens.  In addition, my new committee chairman had contacts with the central party, bringing statewide office holders to our meetings.  We never met each other live, the forum where people exchange their spontaneous thoughts.  Agendas came across as more trivial, though the new district had greater prosperity than my old one.  Hardly anyone challenged the elected representatives who agreed to appear, which may be why so many agreed.  Discussions involved procedures and some land use, which is not the purpose of the committee.  I found the people half ideologues, half dull, with crossover between the halves.  I learned that some had been national committeemen for Senator Sanders' delegation.  What lacked were people like my neighbors.  People who worked in the offices and the labs, folks with a business, people young enough to have kids in school.  Many had been with the committee for decades.  One relative newcomer had once held office, another chummed with people of title.  Yet, I did hold the chair, a financial professional of skill and party loyalty, in proper esteem.  And the new committee contained a personal friend, a member of my own synagogue with his agenda that saw his home's property value in jeopardy based on a land use issue that had languished for years. 

Was either Committee a face of the Democratic Party?  Maybe the second one.  More political hobbyists, though the first had its ideologues.  The elected officials, though, all dependent on the support of the various Party structures, never forgot their primary mission of making their districts and our state as a whole the type of place people would want to live.  Contented voters reelect. While we only have one dominant party, we have contested primaries. 

I attended every meeting, engaged sometimes, bored other sessions.  Rarely irritated, but even then rationalized by knowing that everyone on the screen was personally ineffectual but enabled elected officials of quality to emerge.  I took my turn at the nuts and bolts of political committee operations, failing miserably at my one attempt at contacting voters by an automated phone bank.

Buddha once advised his disciples that when their personal experiences diverged from what their leaders promoted, act on experience.  My turn came soon, exposing the face of the Democratic Party to me in an unflattering way.  A young man had just requested to join our committee.  He had recently authored an op-ed in the local newspaper advocating a Gaza ceasefire.  I did not read it, and opposed what he recommended, but I also know that the newspaper has to select from a broad array of opinions submitted to their editors.  They chose his editorial, so at least the writing must have been coherent.  When he came, he requested that our Committee go on record as supporting a resolution by Rep Cori Bush demanding an end to hostilities in Gaza.  The massacre of October 7 2023 transformed me.  This Congresswoman was the placard carrier of the anti-Jewish African American view that we are oppressors who must be contained because we have too much control.  A scripted anti-Semite.  A River to the Sea you don't belong in usurped land type. And I once lived in the City of St. Louis that elected her.  I remained polite.  This is not the purpose of our committee. Our committee does itself a disservice disconnecting its upper middle class highly educated October 8 Jews.  The rest of the Committee thought this made the Democrats stand for the oppressed.  I prevailed on a technicality, as he was not a committee member who could make proposals.  After adjournment, I stayed on Zoom with the chair and one or two others.  These guys could spout the slogans.  I happen to be very knowledgeable about this subject, its history, its many facets.  Those I dealt with were not, and did not care to be.  Their slogans and alignments would suffice.   At the next month's meeting, we voted on his membership in the Committee.  I voted yes.  The Big Tent should be the Democratic Party's foundation.  Now with standing he brought it up again.  He had support.  Just like on the news, you could see who the River to Sea crowd were.  Some were on that Zoom.  That became the face of the Democratic Party to me that evening.  I resigned from the Committee the next day.  The chairman telephoned me.  We agreed that I would think about it for a month.  When the pre-meeting email reminder arrived, I affirmed that I am not willing to watch the committee that should be focusing on local issues that we all experience veer in that direction.  I would not be back.  My party has elected officials that I can support in their primary races, including another Jewish candidate who would ultimately get elected Governor.

A more chance encounter with the face of the Democratic Party came later.  As I was departing, a dedicated politico, one who ran legislative campaigns, applied to return to the District 10 Committee after an absence.  He had experience as a political operative, so having him offer those skills would advance the Committee's purpose of keeping Democratic candidates in office.  By chance, I would meet him not long after.  For several years I have engaged in a labor of love, scoring scholarship applications from HS seniors and medical students on behalf of a local foundation that administers the scholarship funds.  This organization holds two receptions each year which I make an effort to attend.  At the summer event, I saw the name tag of the man I had recently voted onto the committee.  He had decided to run for a new vacancy in the state assembly.  Our conversation touched a little on the committee.  I told him why I departed.  We did not discuss any issues related to his candidacy, but more to the fine organization that sponsored the event we were attending.  A cordial chat, then we went our own ways to the snack table.

Months later, in the midst of the primary campaign, his opponent's husband and daughters knocked on my door.  They being Jewish, recognized my mezuzah and Shalom welcome mat.  I listened to his description of what his wife supports, which is not very different from what I support.  I briefly told him why I had resigned from that district committee six months earlier.  Apparently, her primary opponent, the gentleman I had found affable at the reception, had confronted her as an inferior candidate because she was a Zionist.  That from a talented operative in my own District Committee, whose endorsement he had.  The primaries took place in September.  The Party Choice for that seat, their committeeman, lost to the lady whose family had knocked on my door.  Their choice for Governor, the incumbent Lt. Governor, lost to my candidate.  So even within the Party, its committee could not get the very middle-class Democratic suburban public, those people with degrees from America's most prestigious institutions, to vote for their less capable candidates.  My perception and that of my neighbors linked progressive ideology to less capable.

Not entirely accurate.  We did elect the first trans woman to Congress.  While trans is one of the characters that Republicans successfully linked to an undesirable Democratic social agenda, this lady, and she definitely looks female in person, spent her years in our State Senate functioning as a statesman, crafting legislation that considered minority sensitivities.  And while the progressive face has its intersectionalities where Jews sympathetic to individual causes are not welcome because we've been labeled their oppressors, this lady has been very gracious to us.  I met her at the Jewish National Fund breakfast, the ultimate of advocacy for Zionism.  While this stands out to me personally, it highlights the exception.  The real face is the support of scripted anti-Semites who think they know which oppressors will galvanize their political base.  It does, but at a very high price in November.

We saw the image of the Democratic Party, accurate or not, on TV last fall.  My alma mater made the news as its President got baited for all to see by a Congresswoman.  As students and non-students expressed support for a massacre as a legitimate liberation technique, our university president spoke of context.  With the financial protection of tenure, faculty of the highest IQs came out in support of River to Sea by any means necessary.  I think they vote Democrat, just like me, but for very different reasons.  They have no alternatives as Republican agendas summarily reject what they promote.  The Democrats make space in their big tent.  Those profs may not have an alternative voting pattern, but I do, with enmity to those folks as a campaign asset.  I didn't change my vote, but the national electorate rebuffed that view in a very consistent way. 

My alma mater was at the forefront of not just pro-Palestinian but pro-Hamas advocacy.  Nobody is more sympathetic to the Palestinian plight than me.  I want them to have prosperity and stability.  Nobody is more in favor of people of color succeeding.  But as a United Way Donor, I got invited to their annual meeting, even winning mucho dinero in their raffle.  This umbrella charity, this resource for the disabled, the disadvantaged, the elderly, had become woke right down to Spelling Bees for the Community peppered with buzzwords of Black victimhood.  The United Way exists to help these people succeed.  Their approach won’t accomplish that. After the meeting, I approached the spelling champion, a personable young man to ask if he watched the National Spelling Bee.  He knew nothing of it.  The coach apparently lacked the saichel to realize that his kids, dedicated to their own learning, could move themselves ahead in a national forum.  They are the face of the Democratic party, with people like us with marriages of long duration, diligence to our profession, generosity to our people and their people, and reverence for the icons of American history who enabled what we have, now labeled as their oppressors.  River to the Sea with fists in the air and faces obscured.

Those are the side issues that divert attention.  But prices and immigration drive decisions of voter preference.  I did a seminar this year for a course that I take at the state university's senior division.  The course is part of an ongoing series on NYCity, as the instructor has a fondness for Broadway and lived there much of his life.  Due to the economic activities that dominate our region, science enterprise, corporate law, banking, and medical care, many from Metro NY have settled here to make our living, including me.  We are very attached to this course in retirement.  My presentation involved people who a visitor to NYC might meet.  City employees, vagrants, street vendors, and diplomats.  NYC has people assembling from everywhere.  In researching the section on vendors, I found an advocacy group that compiles data about who the people manning the stands on the street are.  They originate disproportionately from Latin America, with a second cluster from North Africa.  Those who sell food are regulated separately from those who sell merchandise.  Of the food vendors about a quarter are undocumented residents, about an eighth for the merchandise sellers.  And that's from their own advocacy group.  Remove them all, as the incoming administration suggests, and hardship will likely ensue, both to other illegal residents who work and shop at the vendors and people who work, visit, or live in Manhattan where lunch at the cart is a welcome convenience.  Being sympathetic, or at least not disruptive, could have been the Democratic public face, one that affirms the kindness that most people of either party have.  They didn't take that approach.  The Republicans had a plan, likely a trouble-making one with an element of cruelty.  The Democrats not only did not propose a plan, but held the responsibility for the current circumstances.

And prices.  I do the family grocery shopping.  Once a week I read every page of the circular of my principal supermarket.  As I review each column, I write desired items on a notepad.  On the front, things I must get.  On the back of the page, items I would consider, a much longer list than the front.  From this I can plan menus for the week around what discounts the grocer is willing to share with me.  A challenge, almost like a sport, to keep the conglomerates that supply most of our food competitive with each other.  And they are.  Price gouging claims, the face of the Democratic progressives, seem inaccurate. Prices are not uniformly excessive.  Things with licensed team logos and pharmaceutical patents carry enormous premiums.  Intellectual property is lucrative, but defensibly so.  Raw produce, meats, and seafood, those commodities, always have discounted items.  The highly processed foods, those snack items, sodas, prepared foods for reheating, carry the brunt of inflation.  I suspect this reflects supply chains, as these concoctions by the best and brightest of the corporate food labs require global input of ingredients all being at the factory at the same time.  They also support consumer panels that maximize the taste acceptability to the public and assess what people are willing to pay.  That part will probably not change much as political ideologies shift every few years in America.  Democrats controlling prices?  For medicines they did.  For food, there's a very big downside when products people want become scarce.  What can change are incentives to producers.  Part of the Republican campaign to address the problem, even if not a great solution.

My wife defaults to MSNBC when she needs a break from more redeeming PBS and TCM.  Their talking heads spent the campaign telling us the dangers of Donald Trump.  He spent the campaign telling us how he would use Presidential power to address our woes.  My conscience and character told me to vote blue, and I did.  My intellect, those mental elements of binah and saichel incorporated into our Jewish central prayer each day,  questioned that.

Did the Red Wave crest because squeaky wheels within the Democratic party misrepresented it, as The Atlantic's essayists state?  I don't think so.  The product distinction between the two voting options seemed clear.  Inflation and health were concerns for sure, but solutions did not emerge.  The face of the party repels even people like me with multiple university degrees and generational gratitude for what FDR and LBJ did to enhance lives of Americans in economic or racial disadvantage.  That summarizes my experience this past year.  The voters saw a very accurate position of the party the majority rejected.  They acted on experience, just as Buddha advised us.

Wednesday, December 4, 2024

Nominal Gifts

As I married into my wife's family, I immediately adopted their holiday gift customs, or really created more of a hybrid with my own family's traditions.  Birthdays thoughtful but not extravagant. Mother's Day and Father's Day, similar to birthdays.  Our families diverged at Hanukkah.  They gave a token gift each night.  My family arranged for each person to have one substantial gift, though less costly than a birthday.  The intent was less the gift but some thought into what the recipient enjoyed.

I first earned my own money when I began my internship, with marriage the following month.  I had a surviving father, one brother and one sister.  Father got something for birthday, Hanukkah, and Father's Day.  Sibs just Hanukkah.  My wife handled her household similarly, but each person got something for their birthday.  When just my wife and me, we exchanged a token gift with each candle.

Boston made shopping fun.  We set strict holiday limits.  No single item over $3 for anyone.  Mass Ave in Cambridge, where we lived, had small specialty shops lining most of its path from Harvard to MIT.  Trinkets, glassware, kitchen gadgets, reduced price books.  My car would get me to Caldor and Zayre.  The T would bring me to downtown Boston which boasted the largest, most diverse Woolworth's in America.  Mugs and other items with people's names, including some less common ones.  Filene's Basement.  Very large bookstores.  And during my stay there, my hospital employer offered a floating holiday for each employee to have a shopping day off.  All I needed to do was arrange coverage from a colleague, much like a sick day.  During my stay there, Massachusetts suspended its mandated Sunday store closures between Thanksgiving and Christmas.  My chance to wander around Boston thinking of other people.  Since much had to be wrapped and shipped, with few options other than the Post Office, the gifts needed to be obtained in advance of the holidays, with Hanukkah usually preceding Christmas by about two weeks.

Over forty years, families evolve.  We settled in a permanent home.  My father remarried.  My siblings disconnected enough from us to get dropped from the gift list, but not before several items went unshipped over a few consecutive years.  I added two children, now grown and independent.  Inflation and prosperity relaxed the spending limit, though still nominal Hanukkah limits.  Stores stay open seven days weekly as a routine.

The retail landscape has also changed.  There is no Woolworths, Caldor, Zayre, K-Mart.  Even near Harvard Square, when I have rare occasions to visit, the boutiques have been taken over by familiar chains.  Those small shops with unique stuff of nominal cost survive mainly in regional Farmer's Markets or Outlets.  And an offshoot of prosperity is the accumulation of stuff.  Birthdays have shifted from tangibles to experiences.

My current challenge is to identify four things for my daughter who lives on the opposite coast, four each for my son and daughter-in-law who live within driving distance but still require shipping, with my wife also selecting four for each of them.  For my wife, her Birthday and eight small items to accompany the nightly candles.

Still, the goal has not changed.  Each recipient has a personality.  Each recipient has interests.  Little indulgences for my daughter.  Sports for my son.  Cats for my wife and daughter-in-law.  The shopping, or at least gift consideration, has no season.  When I visit museums, parks, even foreign countries, I keep my eye out for gift shops and souvenirs, as they are not likely to visit the same place.  Edibles are often regional and inexpensive.  I insist that they be Kosher.  Many of the specialty candies and syrups and hot sauces with extensive shelf presence during the holiday season would be potentially Kosher but the companies that make these seasonal items would not find the expense of Kosher certification cost-effective for limited production goods. Mass market sweets with a Kosher mark on the package still appear on shelves.  Every major department store in my area has a small Hanukkah section.  My quota of twenty items always gets completed.  And then wrapping and shipping, where we bundle my four for each child with my wife's four.

Despite the effort, the traditions, the periodic modifications, despite all this Hanukkah is not our principle Jewish celebration.  Passover holds that distinction.  Another season of shopping with intent to offer, this time edibles with stringent limitations.  But Hanukkah retains its American popularity, partly due to treasured ceremonies, partly due to its place on the secular calendar.  A project of its own.  One that needs creativity and thinking outward.  


Wednesday, November 27, 2024

Meritocracy Gone Astray


Sometimes a single publication captures my full attention.  It's been a while since I devoted a single post to commentary on a single article but this one has already generated many offshoots, including videos on the theme by its author.  It comes from The Atlantic, written by David Brooks whose day job pays him as columnist for the NY Times.  He also has authored a few books, mostly non-fiction commentary.  

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2024/12/meritocracy-college-admissions-social-economic-segregation/680392/

The piece took me several sessions to read in its entirety, then a couple more evenings to ponder its components.  David, which is probably what I would call him if we met in person, as we are contemporaries of age though of unequal legacies, takes great pride in his classical political Conservatism.  He cites Edmund Burke of Tory England as a defining figure, one focused on individual and collective freedom, which enables individual and collective achievements.  And he recognizes its flaws and its misapplications to America's contemporary political landscape.  Basically when people of talent, like him, protbably to a lesser degree like me, are permitted to perform, they will rise to the occasion.  This article explores  one form of American entitlement  shifting to another form.  He focuses on what becomes of students who enter prestige schools.  In one era, money and legacy was the entry ticket.  And those elites generated a mixed legacy with the collapse of Wall Street but very successful FDR recovery programs, WW2 victory, and post-War economic expansion.  Key academics surmised that America could do even better if it sought out innate talent from wherever it emerged, irrespective of pedigree.  A post-war expansion with educational benefits to soldier survivors generated a new talent pool that the finest educational institutions could tap, with the end point being America leading the world in any activity that depends on universithy training.  He and I are both beneficiaries of that shift, Jewish kids once limited by quotas that gave way to high grades and test scores.  We entered top universities.  He became a journalist of international influence.  I became a worthy physician to appreciative patients but did not really advance the medical field.  He cites surveys to indicate that most of the grads of these schools are like me, solid performers.  The stars come from someplace else, but they still emerge.  The Nobels may not go to Harvard alums, but they do go to faculty at these places who often attended college elsewhere.  Same with our cultural advancements, technological transformations, social agencies, and diplomats.  Talent eventually emerges, but the Ivy admissions officers are not all that adept at identifying the exceptional as they are at ranking numerical data.  Moreover, while these graduates have done many worthy things to move our collective life experience forward, an undue number devote themselves to manipulating financial markets or using math abilties to take profitable guesses on where markets might trend without improving the companies themselves or the people they employ.  In effect, solid reliable talent producing less that the optimal public outcome that the admissions reformers of the middle 20th century envisioned.  This generation produced cell phones, medicines, diagnostics, sensitivity to once marginalized groups, opportunities for women.  But these Best and Brightest also generated market fiascos, ill-advised international gambits, undue value on people who can hurdle exams and join things at a young age, and eventually a divide between winners and losers that invites a strongman with dubious alliances to hit the reset button as resentment grows.

David divides his criticism into six categories which I copied.  He answered each of them quite extensively.  I will offer my observations while critiquing his.

1. The system overrates intelligence.

Securing admission to a top school was competitive in my day, even more so in my children's era, as we all attended the same university.  An Admissions staff will receive maybe ten times as many applications as they can accommodate.  Most of those hopefuls could navigate the curriculum requirements.  So they need to distinguish one person from another.  From my HS class I knew the few who got into the Big 3 Ivies.  They all had stronger academic transcripts and scores than me, except for our football quarterback, a wonderful young man of color in a school where the Jews dominated the classrooms.  Still, being a QB, taking challenging courses with decent performance, and having a father who served on the faculty of our regional Ivy made him successful.  But for the most part, the classmates with the best transcripts got into the most selective schools.  Those on the second tier, like me, attended the next tier school.  One from my tier became a superstar.  Everyone else still got to go to college someplace.  We produced doctors, lawyers, engineers.

Might my own school have been better with a different collection of kids?  Or might I have achieved more were I not up against kids who hurdled the requirements with the same proficiency as me?  No way to know.  However, fifty years have passed since commencement.  We know how everyone did.  That's not true the Millenial classes my children attended or the current Gen Z.  But people turned down by the admissions committees, as I was, still had an adult future to attain someplace else.


2. Success in school is not the same thing as success in life. 

My class in HS and university generated some very productive people, rewarded financially and with symbols of prestige in the form of titles and admiration.  The HS classmate who became an international CEO went to a small division of a state school.  A few very undistinguished students built very profitable small businesses.  We are economically and culturally successful.  That is not the same as being personally successful.  My marriage has endured an adult lifetime.  My children are worthy successors.  I knew to retire when I could no longer excel.  I have no idea how others fared.  Divorces are common as are blended families.  No doubt some had personal misadventures.  I never generated a lot of friends and chafed at working as part of a team where I would have to cede autonomy.  Some would regard this as failure.  Did I reach my potential?  Did my place on the Admissions committee hierarchy squeeze out another applicant who might have benefited more?  No way to know.  Since we make ample incomes, did we save prudently or announce Look at Me through our purchases?  Improper pretense existed.  People less generous with their treasure that their educations enabled also likely prevalent.  I think I have been successful at what mattered, my marriage, descendants, economic security, and a modicum of generosity in excess of what my less well-off parents were able to offer.

3. The game is rigged. 

Rigged isn't the right term.  Understanding the revised rules, acquiring experience with outcome, and setting strategies that achieve the outcome describe the process better.  It is not conceptually that different from prevailing at anything else from a football game to a retirement nest egg.  If the experience that graduates of prestige schools have lucrative, personally satisfying careers, preparing to attend one becomes a priority.  We know how Admissions Officers assess applications.  We know what they ask on the applications.  If they seek the Best and Brightest, those with credentials, then get the credentials.  And as in golf or bowling, there are handicaps to make up the difference.

Do some people have advantages?  For sure.  Tall people have an advantage being on the school's basketball team.  People with certain capacities create better art.  And both can be coached to surpass their inherent advantages.  My family could not afford to have me experience a summer in Europe or a tutor to get me over some calculus obstacles, or private music lessons.  I and many others made the best of what we had.  My classmates in the 1970s seemed of similar background.  We were people who took the challenging curriculum, had been successful with standardized testing since the Iowa tests of early grade school, knew how to write a coherent composition though less well than our future professors thought we should.  Within those classes, we had HS jocks who excelled at sports, a few physics nerds.  We also had kids less academically capable admitted to the class as it benefited the university in some way.  Some were scions of large donors that the school would need to offer its programs to everyone.  Others brought special talents, and some were kids of social disadvantage who excelled in their city or rural HS environment but would struggle in their new classrooms.

Rather than rigged, or offering unfair advantage to one group over another, I think the better criteria would be whether the classes that they ulimately assemble bring credit to the university that selected them among the excess of applicants.  For the most part they do.  And as they move on, becoming fifty-year alumini as I did and David will soon be, did we derive benefit from what our elite schools with its array of opportunities made available?  I think the vast majority did.  And do we accept people who fell at a different stratum in the college scramble in a dignified way when they become our colleagues or neighbors later?  I think we did.

4. The meritocracy has created an American caste system.

Social strata in America and globally predate contemporary times.  Across history, a certain amount of social mobility, upward and downward, existed.  Slavery was a global reality for much of history.  So were people who left the farm to seek fortune as soldiers or merchants.  There were physical conquests of warfare or colonialism that defined who people were and the opportunities they might have as individuals or as groups.  History also has its rebellions and its remodeling.  Rather than a caste system, which we think of as the model of India which is an immutable legacy, what contemporary America seems to show is loss of economic and social advancement opportunities that were once accepted.  That may be true but blaming it on the decisions of a few elite institutions probably isn't.

Social mobility in American history, as taught to me by some pretty astute teachers, came in waves.  Just crossing the ocean on a one-way ticket shut some doors and opened others.   The Africans brought here in chains had no freedom and the natives pushed aside by settlers lost stature from their starting points.  Over time, though, the consequences of doing this had a mixture of benefits and harm.  Policies by those in authority largely expanded economic upgrades to those of European ancestry, whether land for ownership, educational mandates for children, absorption of immigrants into an already established economy, or projects of philanthropy for public benefit.  After economic fiascos from monopolies to depressions, corrective protections were also put into place by those given rightful authority, with a blend of favorable and unfavorable consequences.

The Meritocracy era as David describes came in my father's generation.  The big state universities already existed, authorized and supported since the time of the Civil War.  Transportation already existed.  Manufacturing capacity sufficient to prevail in two world wars already existed.  So did financial institutions and taxation in its various forms.  What changed was expansion of who could access them.  The government committed funds to help my father go to college on their dime in appreciation of bodily risk he and many others experienced. And home ownership benefited the new owners like my father as well as the American economy.

All people who become newly prosperous have to decide what to do with the money they have but never expected to have.  Andrew Carnegie wrote of this as the Gospel of Wealth, but for most it was more personal prosperity.  And the people who are now well-paid, wearing ties to work, consumed some and invested some, including in their children.  So as David and I of the same generation learned, our expectations were rooted in economic security which becomes part opportunity, part safety net for when we fail.  We could access the top educational facilities, but also our state universities.  We could then take those degrees and the abilities to which they attest and offer them to employers needing people like us.  

Our generation that benefited from expanded access did not create the institutions that now welcomed us, though with some strings attached and rules that we needed to follow.  The Ivies had already achieved their acclaim, the corporations that bought us aboard were largely established, even the emerging broadcast industry, our federal and local governments needed civil service talent to serve the public.  We filled those needs, but with few exceptions did not create them.  And while Trickle Down Economics has been discredited for good reason, as we became economically secure, we did not abandon or undermine those who did not get the same economic attainment.  Instead, we traveled on highways designed by civil engineers but built by construction workers, purchased cars initially from Detroit but accepted a variant meritocracy when Toyota built more reliable vehicles, bought products transported to our stores by teamsters, and admired public parks maintained by less educated landscapers.  We wished none ill will.  Rather the mindset was more share our abundance.

Along the way, that social mobility and also interaction between economic strata got interrupted, though we were not the ones to do that.  What changed, in quantum steps methinks, are the interactions.  Starting with the draft, the ultimate in forced social mingling, at least for men, WW2 drafted Kennedys and ranch hands.  Vietnam did not.  And then for defensible reasons, a professional voluntary army requiring a certain literacy attainment to function excluded the school dropouts.  The universities became the next mixture point, one that has shifted from rousing success to troublesome as David outlines for most of his essay.  We have neighborhoods.  They have always been segregated by levels of prosperity along with ethnicity.  We have in more recent decades the decline of intergenerational hometowns, where at least everyone who lived there went to the same HS.  And we have decline of the churches, another place where people of different backgrounds met in the same place.  More recently, we have our devices, the ultimate in customized ME with grudging interaction with anyone else and disregard for who might take offense.  Those are the institutional failures that create strata, if not actually castes.  The evolution of who gets into what school over two generations reflects that.  I don't think it caused it.

5. The meritocracy has damaged the psyches of the American elite. 

David and I progressed through our universities unscathed.  I think my kids did too.  The need to divert from your natural interests to jump through the various admissions hoops is worth it for some, but damaging to others.  Despite this childhood deprivation, a very real circumstance, David also acknowledges the long-term payoff.  Economic security that endures for most, with the opportunities for professional and personal growth that go with it, offsets the sacrifice of parts of one's childhood.  Better health, less divorce, less substance abuse, esteem from others.  All big long-term gains that are hard to attain by alternate paths.  Those seem to enhance the psyche.  Since to hurdle Admissions, childhood becomes more regimented than it might otherwise be, adapting to campus regimentation should be no harder or easier than is for other kids who enter young adulthood in different regulated environments like the military or many workplaces.  The campus experience has changed since my time there two generations ago.  I think political correctness is more enforced.  We certainly had our pressured conformities, be it Vietnam opposition or support for Candidate McGovern, though we retained our respect for professors who preferred Nixon like the rest of adult America.  I think that respect element has evaporated for a lot of reasons.  The professors outside the sciences are more ideological.  In my era, George Wallace was a much sought-after campus speaker.  We held up signs but did not interfere with his lecture.  People are too quick to cancel or even punish certain ideologies.  Some of what we absorbed as Derech Eretz, the Hebrew term for good interpersonal relations, has given way to shouting ME and playing Wack-a-Mole with you.  People of the Instagram era seem too focused on their flaws, but I don't think the upper levels of Academy caused that.  More likely that smartphone-internet driven blend of vanity and insecurity was created before the first college application got submitted and was imported to the campus with all its linkages.

Did the quest to attain that Fat Letter from the Admissions office, or now the congratulatory email, cause the fretful, often intolerant emerging adults who populate the campus?  No, it was imported to the campus.  And since these are the kids of needed talent, they will export more to our workplaces, civil service, and beyond in the form of litmus tests for what is acceptable thought, training programs that everyone has to take to make them as sensitive as everyone else in those workplaces.  Conformity has its place.  Our military might would vanish without it.  But harmful standards have a way of being propagated until reformed, which eventually they seem to be.

6. The meritocracy has provoked a populist backlash that is tearing society apart.

Little dispute that we have divisions, including some element of backlash, or at least resentment.  Real financial capitalists of extreme wealth have largely been forgiven.  Knowledge capitalists, those top university grads of more attainable wealth, the very people the ultrawealthy need to run their enterprises, have taken the hit. Voting patterns reflect those alliances and resentments.  The coastal states most dependent on college-trained expertise vote one way, an ever-expanding American interior vote another.  Swing states were once Tennessee and Missouri, now they are Pennsylvania and Nevada.  Yet resentments have been ingrained into American history.  Control of the government shifts every few election cycles.  Dixie resented Reconstruction disruptions enough to enact Jim Crow Laws, then their Democratic congressmen who had reason for economic alliances with Northern Democrats, found backlash to Civil Rights legislation to flip parties.  Workers once depended on the economic benefits of unions, which could protect wages but not keep the plants on American soil.  They flipped, but not before seeing their wages of their auto and steel plants becoming the lower wages of retail workers.  Neither the Confederate nostalgics nor the displaced union members got what they sought.  Acceptance of public access of races to restaurants and state universities is accepted and demeaning references marginalized.  The union guys have not brought the jobs back from Asia irrespective of how they vote.  They are left to nurse their resentments.  Meanwhile, Smart America, those targets of resentment, continue to engage in the creative work that advances technology, makes their doctors more effective, and travel more accessible.  They resent the producers of these, but partake of what has been produced.

In some ways educated America functions as the social croupiers.  It makes no difference who controls the government.  As long as the expertise has value and scarcity, we will prosper.

Over a much longer time frame, useful institutions have been devalued, whether the government agencies, those very elite universities that David now critiques, what we see on our screens, the people we must hire to keep our cars mobile and our homes functional.  The respect that expertise or skill once brought has been targeted very successfully in exchange for resentment-driven votes.  I think its roots lay a lot deeper than the annual scramble for college acceptance decisions.

Moving past David's Six Elements Meritocracy's Flaws, his question of whether our systems generate the best leaders is a very real one.  I will site two offshoots, one a presentation by a Jewish thought leader who I much admire, the other a written reaction to David's column in her student newspaper from one of the elite schools that David bashes.

Bari Weiss graduated one of the Ancient Eight, securing a position at the pinnacle of journalism.  She gave it up to become an electronic journalism entrepreneur on Substack, while also writing and speaking extensively about the scourge of Anti-Semitism emerging from social margins to mainstream, particularly on our campuses.  Most visibility at the universities of David's essay, my own alma mater among them.  Bari gave a speech which I watched on YouTube.  She addressed what is called the General Assembly, a collection of the highest youthful Jewish achievers, the recipients of that stardust that displays how wonderful they all are.  As her litany of anti-Semitic incidents proceeded over the next few minutes, how they were the ones who had to act to reverse it, my half-century of Jewish immersion, Jewish experience flashed back.  Every one of those circumstances on her list occurred with the Best and Brightest of the Jewish community, the highest achievers with titles seeping over the internet, in place.  Just like Ivy League parents groom their children to follow them, the Jewish organizations engage in a similar form of institutional incest.  They get good people, but choose them as obedient proteges.  Those kids listening to Bari at the podium probably never had their Hebrew School teacher complain about them.  They made Honor Roll another designation where obedience overrides intellect, went to Ramah, held offices in Hillel.  Saluted when told to salute.  In the two generations where this constituted the most admired, or at least the most titled, the synagogues that form the core institution of American Judaism have lost membership.  Donors to agencies give more money to the treasuries because the ability to give large sums has expanded.  However, fewer individuals donate.  I could only think like David describing colleges, they picked people less capable than they could have had by setting inferior identification criteria and allowing compliance or affibility to become a surrogate for talent.  The price was high.

A student writing for  The Princetonian, an African-American woman, focused primarily on David's assertion that meritocracy created a rigged game. 

https://www.dailyprincetonian.com/article/2024/11/princeton-opinion-column-meritocracy-admissions-david-brooks-ivy-league

Despite her attendance at a school that did not accept my son, she conveys a blend of perpetual victimhood and ingrained unfairness that defies correction.  I don't know if she's right, but it's more productive to see oneself as the agent of moving forward in a better direction.  The Rebbe, z"l, used to receive people seeking his sage guidance.  Often they conveyed to him misfortunes, hoping his wisdom will create a path for more favorable outcomes.  Invariably, the Rebbe would respond to the petitioner in distress, that his circumstance was a Gift from God, a chance to hit the reset button, put the thinking cap on, reject inertia.  And the Rebbe would then make the first suggestion. Nothing is really doomed.  Not our politics, antagonisms, nor our impediments to giving each person their best shot to take.