Ten Great Days

My past ten days have been wonderful. I hope yours have been as well, but since I don't know about yours, I'm going to have to blog about mine. That's the only way to guarantee accuracy. I know you'll understand.

This great stretch began with a much anticipated visit by Josh, Cindy, and the twins, Sam 'n Sara. I hadn't seen this wacky crew since late June at Ada's unveiling. I couldn't wait for these two 10-year-olds to take their first swims in the Gulf.

The sea was angry that day, my friends, and watching Sam and Sara laugh uncontrollably as the surf pounded them was one of those moments I'll file away for a less happy time. This much I have always known to be true: the innocent laughter of children is the strongest medicine there is. It was particularly gratifying to watch Sam play in the surf. He hasn't always been a fan of the water, but, as in so many other areas of his life, he has grown and learned and moved forward. This wonderful boy's "ceiling" gets higher every day. Sara, who doubles as Sam's twin sister and his other Mom, spent her time boogey boarding, shell picking, and herding Sam away from potential danger. The dynamics between these two munchkins are fascinating and I never tire of the interaction.

While Cindy amused herself picking out several amazing shells, Josh achieved a new personal milestone: most time spent in the water since his Aruba honeymoon way back in the last century. He waded out beyond the breakers and began floating. Not to brag, but the Getman males have always been known for their floating prowess. If there were a worldwide floating contest, a Getman male would undoubtedly float to the top of the competition. We are a very buoyant group.

Another highlight of the visit was a lovely breakfast with Kate. I was looking forward to introducing Kate to my family and they were eager to meet her. After some predictable initial shyness, the twins warmed up to Kate. Believe me, she's easy to warm up to. Josh and Cindy enjoyed meeting Kate as well, and all the initial awkwardness one would associate with this type of event dissolved into laughter and smiles, aided by a huge helping of Bananas Foster. This process will continue next month on our trip to New England. I know that Kate will enjoy meeting my wonderful family and friends and they will enjoy meeting her. There are precedents for this sort of thing: Yaz taking over for Himself in left field; Cowens for Bill Russell; Leno for Carson, etc...Your love and reverence for the original doesn't prevent you from loving and appreciating the uniqueness of the newcomer. Friends, it doesn't have to be complicated.

After some hair-raising adventures on a Waverunner, during which Cindy proved to be the only real daredevil in the group, it was time to say goodbye to this wonderful crew and start the next portion of this great stretch: a road trip with Kate to Asheville, NC to see Matt, his wonderful friend Audrey, and to hear Matt play his usual Wednesday night gig at Mo'Daddy's Bar. Kate was a little trepidatious about this jaunt because it involved a side trip through Atlanta to spend the night at her brother Bob's place. Having lived for a time in suburban Atlanta, Kate was somewhat nervous about driving through or even around this city, noted for its crazy drivers and its crazier traffic disasters. I think she was leery of showing me her "traffic side." I told her not to worry. After all, I grew up in Boston, the proud home of the worst, rudest, and craziest drivers this side of the Baja 500. I told her that nothing she could do would shock me or put me off. She said, "Don't be so sure."

All of Kate's fears were unfounded as she behaved admirably through a few ticklish traffic situations and we arrived at Bob's lovely home unscathed and undented. Even Kate's cursing was gentle, and, usually more playful than malicious. A quality driver for sure.

A lovely visit with Bob and his wife, Pam, was followed by a relatively stress-free drive to beautiful Asheville, Matt's home since his departure from Vermont in February. To say that Matt has landed on his feet in Asheville would be a tremendous understatement. In every possible way this relocation has been a positive one for him. Musically, socially, emotionally, whichever way you want to dissect it, Matt's moving to Asheville was a great decision. Think about it: Ada's beautiful battle and her passing last October led both Matt and me to leave all that we "knew" behind to venture out into unknown territories. We have both landed on our feet, have found wonderful companionship, and have carved out new, exciting, fulfilling lives. Ada's example continues to inspire those who love her the most.

We hooked up with Matt and his lovely friend, Audrey, for dinner. This was a double-whammy: Matt wanting us to meet Audrey and me wanting them to meet Kate. It turned out to be a tremendous evening: lots of laughs and good feelings all around. Audrey is a wonderful person and Matt's feelings for her are strong and justified. As usual, everyone loved Kate. Great stuff indeed.

After dinner, we headed down the street to Mo'Daddy's to hear Matt play with his usual Wednesday night jazz group. You can learn all about Matt's musical ventures by going to his cool website: www.ashevillesax.com. Matt was particularly excited to have us there because his group was being augmented this night by Grammy Award winner Kofi Burbridge, an excellent flute and keyboard player. It was quite late, so we only stayed for a set, but I can state unequivocally that Matt is a killer tenor player. After a tremendous amount of practice and dedication, he has advanced to the point where "mastery" is a real possibility. What a joy to watch and listen to. I know his Mom hears and cherishes every note, as do I.

The next day, Kate and I toured the famous Biltmore Estate, a beautiful testimony to what you can build if you are lucky enough to have been born into a ridiculously wealthy family, the Vanderbilts. A wonderful lunch featuring one of the top five hamburgers of my life was followed by a beautiful ride to one of Kate's "holy" places, The Great Smoky Mountains National Park in nearby Tennessee. Kate has visited these beautiful mountains, meadows, and streams many times, often with one or more of her sons in tow. She never tires of the simple beauty of the park. The pictures above barely scratch the surface. I felt honored to be allowed "in" to a place that holds so much power for Kate. The Smoky Mountains are both majestic and gentle at the same time; the stories of the hardy settlers are both inspirational and sad; the woods are both inviting and dangerous. As we drove through a portion of Cade's Cove, we stopped to see a mother black bear watch over her two playful cubs as they tried to climb a tree. Beautiful from afar, dangerous up close, a place filled with contradictions. Experiencing it through Kate's eyes was a wonderful, humbling experience. I feel quite sure that we will get back here for more inspiration.

So those were my last ten days.

Ain't life grand?

Much love,
J

That Whole Jewish Thing...

I was frankly wondering if and/or when I would have to confront antisemitism down here. Last Saturday, on the 16th hole of the Hidden Creek Golf Club I was given the opportunity. Warning: this blog entry is not one of the funny ones.

First some “deep” background.

I'm not a religious person. Religion was more or less forced on me when I was a child. Like many of the other Jewish kids in Dorchester/Mattapan, I attended Hebrew School for six years every Monday through Thursday after school and again on Sunday mornings. It was a weird Hebrew language cum Old Testament curriculum. On Saturday mornings I attended children's services. That was a whole lot of time and effort devoted to making me religious. Sadly, it didn't take. Even the enticement of Charleston Chews was not enough to make me want to attend services.

But don't get me wrong. Despite my disdain for the divisiveness of most organized religions, I'm extremely proud to be Jewish. I love the Jewish tradition of philanthropy and the bravery and heart of Israel. I enjoy the food and the comedians. When Ada passed, I had to find a Rabbi to officiate since I had no affiliation with any synagogue. Rabbi Edward Boraz of the Roth Center at Dartmouth proved to be the kind of decent, compassionate clergyman who would be a credit to any denomination. His gentle, consoling words will never be forgotten by our family.

So I'm not one of those sad, self-loathing, antisemitic Jews. I've never hidden my religious background; nor have I flaunted it. Ada and I never felt the need, as some Jewish people do, to live and/or work among other Jewish people. We just didn't care about having that kind of security or protection. We made our home in Hanover, MA, which had very few Jewish families, as did our respective school systems. We raised Josh and Matt in a "Jewish-lite" kind of way, allowing each of them to decide for himself how much to get involved in religion. We retired to Grantham, NH, not exactly the Borscht Belt. Frankly, our religion or lack of it just didn't come up very often. We did our jobs, raised our kids, made our friends, and lived our lives. Our religion just wasn't a big part of the picture.

This next part is a little tough for me to write. Over the years I experienced a handful of antisemitic incidents. Perhaps incidents is the wrong word; they were more like moments. They were in the category of offhand remarks, not overtly confrontational. They never involved friends, just acquaintances of the time. Frankly, I'm fuzzy on the details, but they were situations when I should have spoken up but didn't. I've been chronically non-confrontational most of my life and simply decided that I wouldn't “make a big thing” out of it. Like countless Jewish people before me, I simply swallowed my anger and embarrassment, and decided to move on, grateful to have discovered something about the ignorami in question before I had really befriended them. I'm not at all proud of this approach or this desire to just get along, but there it is.

All of which brings us to the 16th tee at the Hidden Creek Golf Club last Saturday. I was in a foursome that had been thrown together. None of us had met any of the others before. We were having a good round, each of us experiencing both triumph and tragedy on the course. The conversation was pleasant and typical of the surroundings. At some point one of the foursome revealed that he had spent many years working homicides in Miami, certainly not your average occupation. He told us the story of a mob lawyer he knew who was blown up in his car when his clients felt he hadn't done a very good job defending one of them. The lawyer had a Jewish name.

This revelation prompted one of the other members of the foursome, we'll call him Pete, to say the following: “There's nothing Jews won't do for money.”

So there it was, the classic antisemitic stereotype. Obviously, I had a choice to make: confront it or ignore it. I decided quickly to confront it. Why confront it now when I might have ignored it in the past? I've been asking myself that these last few days. I'm quite sure that witnessing Ada's brave and beautiful struggle had something to do with my decision. After seeing what Ada courageously took on, how could I ever back away from a legitimate confrontation? I'm also quite sure that recent conversations I've had with Kate, conversations about her willingness to confront someone when she felt wronged in some way, helped me make my decision.I thought about the example I would want to set for my children and grandchildren. In the end, there really was no choice but to confront Pete. Believe me, I'm not trying to make myself sound like a hero; I don't see anything heroic in simply letting people know where you stand. It's just that this represents a new and long overdue "approach" for me.

I said, “Pete, I'm Jewish and that's about the most ridiculous thing I ever heard.”

“You're Jewish? You've got to be kidding.”

“No. I'm Jewish and very proud to be.”

He seemed a bit nonplussed and mumbled something about Christ and the fact that the Holocaust showed that Jews weren't willing to fight for their own survival. Frankly, what he said was so illogical and ridiculous I was momentarily speechless.

There was kind of an awkward silence, at which point he said, “Hey, man, you're not taking me seriously, are you?”

As a lifelong jester, I know when someone is serious and when he isn't. Pete had been serious when he said those things, but was now backtracking to try and end this unpleasant interlude. I told him that yes, I was taking the very ridiculous and absurd things he was saying seriously, but if he says he was joking, then I would just have to assume that he had a very strange and bizarre sense of humor.

And that was that. He apologized and offered his hand. I shook it. After the round was over, he approached me and hugged me.

Obviously I could have drawn the confrontation out. Maybe I should have. But to what end? Was I going to be able to convince Pete that the Jewish stereotypes he grew up with and still chose to believe were false? I doubt that anything I could have said or argued would have had any lasting effect. No, I decided that it was enough for me to have declared myself a proud member of a proud people and just leave Pete to his ignorant beliefs.

One of the other two players quietly told me how ridiculous he felt Pete was. I thanked him, but was disappointed he hadn't spoken up publicly. The other player said nothing, which may indicate something and may not. After all, in the past that might have been my choice also.

So what does all this mean? Probably not much in the grand scheme of things. Are there any more people like Pete down here? Certainly. Are any of them golfers at my club? Probably. Are there lots of fair-minded people here as well? Of course. In other words Navarre, FL is just like anyplace else you could name; it is inhabited mostly by kind, decent people and, to a lesser degree, by jerks. I'll draw my own conclusions as I interact with them one by one.

And when the jerks say something ignorant, I promise to offer up a challenge. I will never again allow someone to say something offensive or hurtful in my presence without making sure he or she knows where I stand.

Life is too short for needless bickering. It is also too short for laying down when the situation calls for standing up. You just never know where your odyssey will take you.

I can feel Ada nodding.

Much love,
J

Updates

I thought I'd send out some updates on recent developments.

1. Kate

Our friendship has grown by leaps and bounds since that first awkward dinner in March. We enjoy our time together and look forward to each visit and new adventure. We've been making some interesting plans for trips, etc. Coming up in a couple of weeks will be a trip to Asheville, NC to see Matthew playing at his regular Wednesday night jazz gig at Mo' Daddy's Bar. It will be wonderful to see Matt in his "element" and he's looking forward to meeting Kate. We're eager to meet Matt's new friend, Audrey. Love is in the air; what can I say?

The next day, after we visit the magnificent Biltmore Estate in Asheville, we'll drive the 60 or so miles to Gatlinburg, Tennessee, gateway to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. This will be a very special trip because, as far as I know, there has never been a Getman who has set foot in Tennessee! Actually, this magnificent area resonates with Kate and she wants to share it with me. I'm putty in her hands.

In late September Kate and I will be traveling to Boston, Grantham, NH, and Montreal. It will be my first opportunity to show Kate my "roots" and have her meet many of my South Shore and New Hampshire friends and family, including dinner at my brother Marvin's and sister-in-law Sharon's place in Lexington. It will be great to see them again. One of the many highlights of the trip will be the brisket luncheon my sister-in-law, Judy Ernest, has planned for us on September 24. Brisket at Bob and Judy's is one of the great culinary experiences in the galaxy. It's right up there with a hard salami sandwich at the G&G or a hot fudge sundae at Brigham's.

Of particular interest will be a trip we have planned for early December. We've enrolled in a "Road Scholar" (formerly Elderhostel) program entitled "The Cajun Experience." The five-day program will take place at the university in Lafayette, Louisiana which is the epicenter of Cajun culture. In addition to the history of the Acadians and their famous trek from Canada, the program will focus on Cajun music, lifestyle, and cuisine. We're both looking forward to learning something about this interesting group of people, including how to do the two-step.

2. Coco

That's her picture above. She's Kate's impossibly neurotic Shitzu. Kate, a lifelong dog lover, rescued Coco from a very bad puppy mill situation. Damage had been done and it took Kate both a long time and a lot of tenderness to get Coco to trust her. While she is still skittish (Coco, not Kate), she is much more comfortable under Kate's loving care. The roll of thunder or the sound of passersby can still terrify her (Coco, not Kate), but a quick tummy rub and a slice of salami will usually calm her down (Coco, not Kate).

The other day for the first time Coco allowed me to pet her. Time and love are both great healers.

3. My Acting Career

The first performance of "Cookin' It" will take place next week at The Boys and Girls Club of Pensacola.

We're not ready. Not even close.

One member of the cast is having a very hard time remembering his lines. He probably should be spending more time reading his script and less time reading the greens at his golf club. The same cast member is simply an awful dancer, make that a hideous dancer, surgically repaired knee notwithstanding. He had no idea there would be dancing when he signed up for the project. Some of the other cast members were at first shocked at his ineptitude. They thought that even just by accident and the law of averages, he would be bound to get some of the steps right. They know now that he defies the law of averages and are now simply amused at his awkward moves, lunges, and hand movements. Amused and aghast. The director has given up trying to improve this unfortunate situation and has decided to change her name and salvage some of her damaged reputation.

Watch the national news programs next Friday, August 13, to see if there is some kind of walkout or riot at The Boys and Girls Club of Pensacola.

I'm psyched for the cast party!

4. Josh, Cindy and the Twins

This awesome crew is coming down for a long weekend on August 20. It will be their first trip to see "Grampy" in his new environment. Needless to say, Grampy is bursting with excitement and pride at the thought of seeing his family. I can't wait for the twins to experience swimming in the Gulf of Mexico. They both love the water, and the beauty of the Gulf here is staggering. So far, no tar balls here, thank goodness. Josh and Cindy will get a chance to sweat more than they ever thought humanly possible, so we have that going for us. Naturally, I'm looking forward to having Kate meet all of them.

As is Ada.

Ain't life grand?

Much love,
J