My husband’s childhood comes to life at Ko Olina Resort and Marina

Last night we met Ruth and Steve Levine at Longboard’s in the Ko Olina Resort and Marina. “So what,” you say, thinking that every detail of our social life is not really interesting enough to share on Facebook, let alone in a blog post. And I would usually agree with you. But not this time. This time I will share.

Ruth and Steve Levine lived next door to my husband in Monsey, New York where he grew up in the 1970’s. He ate at their dinner table, played ball in their backyard and road in the back seat of Ruth’s big black Cadillac to Hebrew School when she drove the carpool.

And that’s where this story gets interesting.

I often write about our Kapolei Hebrew School Carpool. It has been the saving grace to transporting our children several times a week to and from Temple Emanu-El’s School of Jewish Studies. This is especially true on weekdays when Honolulu’s dense traffic can trap us on H1 for almost an hour in each direction, turning what should be a simple 20 mile commute into a demanding and grueling journey for both driver and passengers alike.

My friend, Laurie Hanan, and I started carpooling over 5 years ago when our older daughters were in grade school. We have continued with our younger kids, adding in other West Side Jewish families including the Gottlieb’s and the Stiglitz’s, as schedule and convenience have allowed.

For me, driving the Hebrew School Carpool has turned out to be more than just convenience. It has become a rite of passage as I have embraced the tradition of Jewish Mothers before me, my mother and mother-in-law included.

Thus, meeting Ruth Levine and her husband last night was more than just being nice to dear old friends of my husband’s mom. It was like meeting an icon. I was in the presence of a super star, the Real Deal:  The Carpool Driving, Jewish Mother from New York who had survived driving my husband in their Hebrew School Carpool of the 1970’s. I was not going to let this moment pass.

We have heard the stories from my mother-in-law of how he used to hide in the back seat when other mothers dropped off the kids at the shul in the afternoon to try to get out of attending classes. We have laughed together at anecdotes filled with his antics that caused so much tsorres for these moms, knowing that the stories have happy outcomes. He became a Bar Mitzvah, he went to college. He grew up, married a nice Jewish woman (eventually) and is an officer in the army and doing quite well, thank you very much.

Meeting Ruth was the opportunity to hear these stories again–her voice adding color and depth to bring alive these beloved tales of my husband’s childhood.

With a serious face she told us hilarious stories of a neighborhood of boys, leaving their bikes on her front porch, playing ball in her backyard, breaking her windows, grabbing corn and cucumbers from her garden to take home to their mothers. She called my husband by his childhood nickname, “Henry Pippenpo,” which was bestowed upon him by Ruth herself. And  she shared with us the story that we came to hear: the day that he hid in the back seat and tried to ditch Hebrew school. Of course she caught him.

She counted the boys as they exited the black Cadillac and noticed that all 6 did not disembark. (How she fit 6 kids in the back of her  Cadillac was not revealed, but I assume it was in the days before seat belt laws such as “Click it or ticket.”)

Aware of his hidden presence on the floor of the back seat, she exited the parking lot. Instead of turning left to go home, she turned right. She returned to the Synagogue, leaned into the back seat and grabbed him by the neck. Nothing got past the keen radar of this sharp and experienced Jewish Mother.

Caught in the act, he had no choice but to do what she said, get out of the car and go learn some Hebrew, “Like a good Jewish son should do.” While he did learn Hebrew, I’m not so sure that he learned his lesson right away as I hear he tried it in another mother’s car along with a plethora of other antics. But eventually he must have.

Ruth Levine was clearly happy to see him. She warmly told me that he has mellowed over the years and I had to agree, praising my wonderful husband to the highest degree.

This is why it meant more than just aloha and hospitality that we went to meet Ruth and Steve last night at sunset. It’s one of those moments that brings us full circle– or at least in the vicinity.

Hearing her tell the tales in the setting of this gorgeous leeward resort, accompanied by the  breeze of our local trade winds, both transported me back to our childhood carpool days and joined us together in the present. It somehow magically connected our west side carpool with their East Coast original as tradition has the power to do.

And it further installed me among the legions of Jewish Mothers from recent generations who have carpooled through the antics of their kids and the frustrations of traffic to provide every opportunity possible for their children, driving them on the journey to success.

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We had a ball anyway…

They no longer call the National Guard Birthday Ball a “Ball.” It is now a “Commemoration.”

Either way, we went on December 11, 2010 and had a great time.

I’m kind of glad that they changed the name. Calling it a Ball is a bit deceptive. It really is more like a banquet.

I remember the first time my husband asked me to join him. He was in the Reserves then and we had been dating for several months. I was very excited. Since I am all about the dress, I asked him about the attire and he said that it was formal. “Like a prom dress,” he said.

Of course I went out and bought a fancy new dress and imagined an evening of dancing and drinking champagne and any other detail a princess fairy tale could conjure. While I was not disappointed in my Prince Charming of an escort, nor the Ball in general, it did not meet my magical expectations whatsoever.

First of all, I did not have to buy a prom dress. Semi formal will do. Every year I swear that I am not going to go out and buy a new dress, but I always do. He not only gets to, but has to wear the same thing each time, so it is no problem for him.

I’ve learned not to spend too much and have finally figured out how to be dressed up and comfortable at the same time.

I had a lot of practice with the UH ROTC Dining Out events. Dining Out is also a better term than “Ball”

2006

2009

My favorite “Ball” was in 2008. It was our first National Guard Ball and I wore my wedding dress from the year before. We were still enjoying the afterglow of newlyweddedness (I like to think we still sort of are.)

We saw our friends Mishan and James and I was perfectly comfortable and relaxed, which always makes for a great evening.

Second of all, dancing is not the focus of the evening. There are several ceremonies to which I have become accustomed over the years: presenting the Colors, toasts and after dinner speeches.

The entertainment is usually a military band, not designed for ballroom dancing. The DJ comes on after the Colors are retired and we are usually so tired ourselves at this point that it is time for us to go home.

This year, they renamed it a Commemoration. That totally works for me. We had a very nice time.

The fact that it was held at the JW Marriot Ihilani Resort and Spa Hokulani Ballroom was a big plus. Not only is it beautiful there, but it is also close to home. We did not have to fight traffic in and out of Waikiki on a Saturday night.

Target brings a miracle of Chanukah to Kapolei

I have been holding off on writing my annual diatribe against all of the retail establishments who have had their Christmas merchandise on display  since before Halloween. I am amazed (appalled)  at how the Fall season has some how tragically become an almost three-month countdown to the biggest money-making event capitalists could possibly conceive: Christmas.

I even thought of adding a new category to this blog entitled “Kvetching” and lead off with my favorite seasonal complaint mentioned in the previous paragraph. But stuff just kept getting in the way.

I’ve been busy with my family and Rotary and my new job. I haven’t been shopping a whole lot. And I did not want to make that particular complaint a signature issue of a blog that I’ve created to explore how my unique experiences connect with the larger community on the island, on the mainland, across other oceans and definitely other religions.

I still like the idea of creating a category called “Kvetching.” Everybody needs the chance to whine and complain now and then.

Today I am not going to complain. Just the opposite. I am going to kvell (Maybe that should be a category as well. Maybe I should rename all of my categories with Yiddish titles.)

Something great happened yesterday and I am of the sneaking suspicion that it is my own very personal reward for exercising a bit of self-restraint. I have not complained too much about the fact that Christmas trees that have been subtly emerging over the past month or the “Holiday” decorations and events that are named with such political correctness, but adorned with absolutely no diversity whatsoever.

I have simply rushed passed them and when my children were in tow, murmured minimal mumblings about the silliness of it all. I have not gotten worked up at all.

Until yesterday. We stopped by Target on our way to the IPA Scholastic Book Fair to get some supplies for the Ko Olina Resort & Marina Thanksgiving Outreach we are participating in today. The Rotary Club of Kapolei will be serving 200 meals at the US Vets facility at Kalaeloa.

That’s when it happened. We were in the greeting card section when my younger girl joyfully exclaimed, “Chanukah decorations!”

I turned to look at what she was talking about and I saw it too, with my very own eyes, Chanukah decorations. It was not just one or two items shoved on a bottom shelf as a token nod to people who might be in search of something else in life besides Christmas. No, it was an entire section that was strategically placed at the end of the aisle to attract our attention and encourage us to buy, buy buy. And I did. There were plates, napkins, menorahs, dreidles, decorations and candles.

I was thrilled and my daughter was too.

When I first moved to Hawaii my mother had to send me stuff from her Temple gift shop in Kansas City. She’d send me Chanukah gelt and small dreidles to take to the kids’ classrooms. She sent  plates and napkins so we could have holiday appropriate celebrations in our home.

Whenever there was a Jewish holiday, Kapolei Safeway would display the matzah and chicken soup boxes as if that’s what we eat on a ritual basis.

Over the years I have been able to purchase what I need at our own Temple gift shop and have done a lot of online shopping as well. I always support the Innisbrook gift wrap fundraiser at IPA because they have Chanukah wrapping paper and gift bags.

Yesterday I supported Target. We bought plates, napkins, decorations and even some candles that we don’t need. If they are going to give us a whole section, I am going to shop there–whole heartedly.

My husband described it in  capitalist terms, if I show a demand they will offer the supply!

I don’t know how long those items were there. Perhaps they went up in October as well. But since the first night of Chanukah is on December 1 this year, I saw last night as excellent timing. A few weeks before the holiday, right around Thanksgiving is the perfect time to get “In the spirit.”

It’s like our own little Chanukah miracle, right in the middle of the Kapolei Target, offering a spirit of good will for the season. This  will certainly buoy me down the aisles of that store and others with a much smaller kvetch on my tongue and a good dose of holiday cheer in my heart.

Good Car Ma

I often write about “The Carpool” and many might be tired of hearing about it, but it has been one of the most time-saving, energy-efficient, environmentally friendly and personally helpful things about my life as a parent.

When I bought a new car in 2004 there were only me and my daughter, who was in second grade at the time, to consider. But I had high hopes of  forming a carpool to take our kids  from our home in Ko Olina to Kapolei’s IPA, such high hopes that I bought “The Pacifica” which seated 6.

The carpool did not come into fruition until 2 years later when I met Laurie Hanan (who is the best blog commenter I know) and began our long-term relationship in what we fondly call the Kapolei Carpool.

It never happened for regular school, but Laurie and I have been shuttling our kids back and forth from the Synagogue on Wednesdays and Sundays and any other chance in between  since 2005.

The Pacifica was on its way to a painful demise so I figured I would finally replace it. It turned out to be a more emotional experience than I imagined. I was pretty attached to that car. It had been my life for six years. We spent so much time driving places and had so much stuff in it that my daughter used to call it our mobile home.

But change was inevitable and it turned out to be all a matter of what I am fondly calling Good Carma. Weeks before I went to buy a car, a friend of mine proudly showed me her new Highlander. It is a very nice car and one that I had considered buying. She told me of her unpleasant experience at several dealerships and how it had influenced her final decision to purchase this Toyota.

I could not imagine how a salesperson’s attitude would be a deciding factor in such a major purchase such as a new automobile. Then I went car shopping one Saturday and learned first hand how right she was. After hours of web surfing and intense perusal of Edmunds.com, I decided to buy a Chevy Traverse. We  rented one in California last August and enjoyed it immensely.

I test drove it again when I returned to Hawaii and confirmed my good first impression. That is until I went to three different Chevy dealers on Oahu and left the last one absolutely disgusted at their inventory, communication and manipulation to try to get me to buy something that I did not want.

I left the Chevy dealer on Nimitz Highway, turned right and saw the Buick dealer a few blocks down. I vaguely remembered seeing a Buick online kind of like the Chevy Traverse and impulsively turned into their parking lot.

Four hours and five phone calls to my husband for emergency online information later, I drove away in my brand new 2011 Buick Enclave and have been thrilled every minute since I bought it. That’s what I call Good Car Ma! Their salesman, Mike Chau, was helpful, honest and went out of his way to help me find what I wanted. And he bought me ice cream while we waited for the car to be prepared by these very nice young men.

The managers were reasonable at the negotiation table and the finance guy was straightforward and honest. I have to say that I never imagined I’d be a big ole’ Buick driving mama, but I float across Kapolei, right onto H1, straight into Honolulu with pleasure ever since my karma kicked in and I made that right turn into the Hawaii Auto Group and traded in my beloved Pacifica for my newly adored Enclave.