NICE VEDIO ABOUT GIRLS

Childhood Dreams

When I was 12 years old I stopped playing the piano.

It's not that I wasn't good; it's just that I was twelve. Being 12 is never easy -- especially in the 60's. I suppose being any age in the 60's was sort of difficult.

Most disappointed in me was my mother. She had grown up in Antwerp around the time of World War I and lived a rather cultured life. She wasn't an "accomplished" pianist, but she was good. She played the classics and to me, that was impressive.

I never understood how she managed to play so well despite being, well…tone deaf. She couldn't sing London Bridge without going off key, and yet when it came to Brahms or Mozart -- no problem.

I didn't love the piano but I did love Mom, so I obliged.


When Mom discovered that I could actually hold a tune (I took after my dad) and liked to sing, she figured that she had the next Liberace in her midst. Naturally, she signed me up for piano lessons.

I didn't love the piano but I did love Mom, so I obliged. Despite my relative disinterest, I bordered on excelling, and for a few years, Mom was happy. But my passion lay elsewhere -- baseball (the Mets, of course), and TV situation comedies -- Ozzie and Harriet, My Little Margie, My Three Sons, Car 54 etc. When piano practice began to seriously interfere, I made the obvious choice. I said goodbye to the ivories.

Mom was clever. If she cried, it was behind closed doors. She backed off, hoping I'm sure that my interest might rekindle on its own. She was right…sort of.

Fast forward three years. At 15, the Mets were just beginning their implausible ascent to the flag and my comedic appetite chanced upon Johnny Carson, but musically I made two new friends – the Smothers Brothers. They were cute and funny and original, and when they came on the screen they spoke to me.

One day I watched and listened in awe as Tommy Smothers strummed his way into my heart. He was playing a banjo. I was riveted.

"Boy, that sounds happy," I thought. "So upbeat, so cheerful, so DIFFERENT!"

Meanwhile, Mom was in the kitchen.

"Quick!" I shouted. "Come quick!"

"Come quick where?" she asked.

I pulled at her apron. "Just come with me!"

She didn't have much choice. Seconds later we were both watching the magic of the banjo.

"Do you see that? It's a banjo. THAT is the instrument I

Selling Dreams

The economic turmoil has prompted many to ask, "Would a Torah-based economy be more immune to the mess we're in?"

Some people have pointed at issues of honesty and greed as being the Torah's rectification for a situation such as this. While it is certainly true that the Torah exhorts us to be honest in our dealings and frowns upon greed, it is hard to see this as the salient point regarding the current financial difficulties.

For one, the economic collapse was not brought on by any egregious issues of integrity. (The Madoff scheme, as bad as it is, was not the cause of the collapse; probably the reverse is true.) Yes, banks were aggressive in their lending practices, and corners were cut in approving loans. But any healthy marketplace includes energetic and ambitious vendors hawking their wares tirelessly. A visit to any of the "shuks" worldwide is sufficient to confirm this.


Society is built by people pushing themselves mercilessly for person gain.



And, yes, greed is a negative personal trait. But society is built by people pushing themselves mercilessly for person gain. Communist society fell apart precisely because there was no greed fuelling the appetites of entrepreneurs. No one had any gain from production and therefore apathy and lethargy were the prevalent mood of the workforce.

Furthermore, we don't need the Torah to tell us that dishonesty and excessive greed are wrong. Yet these weaknesses are part of human nature and difficult to resist. Is there any specific element of the Torah's laws on commerce that would help prevent the consequences of human weakness, and not just exhort them to do good?

Jewish laws of commerce do address one of the root issues with our economy. There is a very fundamental principle of Torah jurisprudence called "smichas daas". Loosely translated, it means a 'full commitment of the mind.'

Greed

 Why are so many otherwise smart people so inept when it comes to money?

Probably for the same reason that so many intelligent investors lose money in the market. Every Wall Street expert will tell you: "Bulls make money. Bears make money. Pigs get slaughtered."

If the valuations of stocks were way out of sight and the profit you could have made was almost obscene, the real question we all have to ask ourselves is, why didn't we sell?
The god of greed never lets us sell before our stock reaches its ultimate record high.

There's only one honest answer. It's because we were greedy. We wanted to squeeze out every last possible dollar from holdings that seemed to go nowhere but up. The god of greed never lets us sell before our stock reaches its ultimate record high. Only with the wisdom of hindsight do we realize that stocks never give us a signal exactly when they plan to fall.

Doctor Moola, almost certainly a pseudonym for a financial advisor, is right on the money when he offers this tip of how to succeed as a short-term trader:

Most important is that you need to establish your sale parameters. This is where people usually go wrong. Recognize the fact that from time to time you should take your losses. If, after studying the stock you're interested in, you determine it can drop 15 percent below its market price on any given day, then you should establish your sale parameter 20 to 25 percent below your purchase price. Learn to take your losses right away. As soon as you hold on to try to get even, you are eventually doomed to seriously losing money.

Establishing sale parameters on the downside will prevent losses from becoming so large that your entire portfolio performance will be seriously affected. But you also need to establish sale parameters when a holding is rising. Do not try to squeeze out the last dollar of profit. Put down a written goal that you would like to achieve. And don't waver when the stock reaches that point. If you're afraid it will continue to rise forever, with you now just watching, then at least include a partial sale as part of your goal.

Sounds pretty easy, doesn't it? So why don't people do it? Again, the one-word answer is greed.

In 1987, Michael Douglas won an Oscar for Best Actor in the movie Wall Street. In it, Douglas played the role of Gordon Gekko, a fiendishly avaricious stock market speculator. To thunderous applause, in one of the climactic scenes of the film, Douglas alias Gekko tells his adoring audience: "There's a new law of evolution in corporate America. Greed is good."

It is a quote that was to become an accepted motto for the decades that followed. Many cultural analysts define the eighties and nineties as "decades of greed" -- a time when only money counted and it didn't matter how you got it. It became socially acceptable to desire excessive amounts of material possessions. Greed became not only accepted; it was encouraged.

Today greed is not only accepted as a good, it's encouraged

Wealth & the Occupy Wall Street Movement

I wish the Occupy Wall Street movement would be a little clearer about what they're protesting.

Even as it continues to grow and gain followers outside of New York, with satellite protests in more than 60 American cities as it threatens to go global, the demonstrators still haven't directly identified their enemy.

And before I can make up my mind whether or not I support them, I think they need to tell us whether this is more about money or morality.

Related Article: Holy Money

What troubles me is that much of the anger of the protesters seems to be fueled by a sentiment about wealth that Judaism long ago rejected. There have always been people who believed that spirituality demands that we forsake materialism. Rich people are wicked by definition. Accumulating a great deal of money is a sin.

But from a Jewish perspective, wealth is not ignoble; it presents us with precious opportunities. When Abraham first discovered God and gave the gift of monotheism to the world, we're told that he was divinely rewarded with prosperity. The philosopher Philo had it right when he summed up the Jewish sentiment in these words: "Money is the cause of good things to a good man, of evil things to a bad man."
"Money is the cause of good things to a good man, of evil things to a bad man."

From time immemorial Jews have recognized that their mission in life is to improve the world. They were also realistic enough to realize that a great deal of good they were required to perform on this Earth can only be fulfilled with adequate financial resources. Helping the poor, assisting the community and its needs, building synagogues and houses of study, and supporting friends, family, neighbors – all these mitzvahs require money in order to properly perform them.

In a beautiful Midrash, we’re told that when Moses was commanded to count the Jews by means of their contributing a half Shekel, Moses was baffled. He didn't understand. Then God showed him “a coin of fire" and his mind was put at rest.

What

Second Marriage

In a perfect world, men and women would marry, live long and happy lives together and leave this world at about the same time. There would be no need for second marriages. But we live in a world that is far from perfect. People sometimes die young, leaving behind grieving spouses with potentially long lives ahead of them. And too many marriages simply do not last and collapse into divorce.

Having served as a congregational rabbi for the past 38 years, I have seen it all: second marriages that thrive; second marriages that are doomed from the start; second marriages wrecked by children; second marriages in which the children from both sides fuse together into a happy and cooperative unit; second marriages that collapse under financial strain and second marriages that endure, but unhappily.

Interestingly, the divorce rate among second marriages is higher than that among first marriages. One would think that an individual who has gone through a divorce would have "learned his lesson" and will, therefore, not repeat the mistakes of the past. Alas, this is often not the case.

Those who marry to fulfill certain needs but are not prepared to give in return usually marry with the same intent the next time around. The second marriage becomes nothing more than a walk down a precipice, a courtship leading to fresh disaster (fresh only because it involves a new partner).
Does it make sense for someone who has failed to marry again?

Sometimes, another questionable pattern is at work. One who leaves a marriage because of financial instability, may, for example, try to find a new partner who offers the promise of financial security. The same is true of the other significant marital issues -- sexual fulfillment, lack of emotional connectedness (communication), problems with in-laws, et cetera. Since the spouse left the marriage because of a particular problem, she understandably wants to ensure that she will not have to contend with the same problem all over again. But life often plays funny tricks on people. The second-time newlywed finds out, often after it is too late, that the new spouse is indeed different from the first. And while the new spouse may have what the first spouse lacked, he may also lack what the first spouse had.

FOLLOWING DIVORCE

Does it make sense for someone who has failed to marry again? Hardly anyone considers this question seriously, and even though we know the answer in advance, it is wise to give this question some thought.

Though it is generally true that it takes two to tango and only one to "untango," there is hardly a divorce in which the break-up is exclusively the fault of one of the partners. So, it behooves any divorced person to engage in serious soul-searching before remarrying, to contemplate what will be done differently so that the next marriage will endure.

Anyone who fails to do this before remarrying is irresponsible and not ready for remarriage. One who cannot recognize his mistakes and learn from them is bound to repeat them. This common-sense observation falls into the general ambit of "Love your fellow Jew as yourself " (Lev. 19:18), which is Talmudically understood as the obligation to engage in the type of activity that will enhance the viability of an impending marriage.1

FOLLOWING DEATH

A second marriage following the death of one's spouse poses other challenges. One may wrestle with various emotions when contemplating remarriage. The unease can affect one's ability to remarry even years after the death.

It is odd that many people are more likely to question a marriage following the death of a spouse than one following a divorce. The key element in this upside-down reaction is the loyalty factor. No loyalty is expected towards a divorced spouse, but loyalty is expected towards the deceased spouse.
A good first marriage naturally begets a second marriage.

There are those who regard remarrying as an act of betrayal. But if loyalty means maintaining whatever was built in the first marriage, it is entirely likely that the surviving partner can more successfully accomplish this with an understanding new partner.

Another faulty perception is that a remarriage reflects negatively on the former spouse. A good first marriage naturally begets a second marriage.