Fringing, Biking and Hillel

Hillel is in Scotland right now. Primarily, he and his wife went for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

For three weeks in August, the city of Edinburgh welcomes an explosion of creative energy from around the globe. Artists and performers take to hundreds of stages all over the city, presenting shows for every taste. Venues can be anywhere, from existing theatres and concert halls to repurposed spaces like bars, parks, buses and shipping containers. The Fringe street events bring colour, excitement and vibrancy to outdoor areas, free of charge. (source)

Given that we’re talking about Hillel, he also took a bike tour along with friends from here at home. Along the route they saw the National Wallace Monument. William Wallace, in case you didn’t know, was a knight and leader in the resistance of English rule. He’s known for his courageous part in the First Scottish War of Independence. By the by, the movie Braveheart, the tale of Wallace’s heroics, is heavily fictionalized—not historically accurate.

I’m deeply envious of Hillel’s trip BUT:

• I can’t stand crowds so the Fringe Fest, as appealing as it sounds, has always been a no-go for me. Also, deaf here, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy or appreciate all the theater and musical performances.

• I can’t ride a bike (rat bastard Nf2 surgeries have, nearly completely, obliterated my ability to maintain stay upright).

• I’d rather tour the wild archeological digs. If I ever regain enough strength and agility, I’d like to head to the Shetland Islands to see all their ancient sites.

In any case, here are some of the awesome pics which Hillel has texted so far.

Rando

The southern cassowary (Casuarius casuarius), also known as double-wattled cassowary, Australian cassowary, or two-wattled cassowary, is a large flightless black bird, found in Indonesia, Papua New Guinea, and northeastern Australia. It is one of the three living species of cassowary, alongside the dwarf cassowary and the northern cassowary. It is a ratite and therefore related to the emu, ostriches, rheas and kiwi. (source)
~~~
City I dislike: Syracuse, NY
Why? Eh, no major reason. It’s a big Western New York college town and yet it’s nearly completely devoid of rizz. It lacks charm for me…Nice ceramics museum  though.

San Marco Square, Venice—James Innes

City I think is overrated: Venice, Italy. Too crowded with careless, annoying tourists who seem to think they’re in Disneyland/World versus a place where people actually live and work.

City I think is underrated: Brattleboro, VT
Really. Go there. It small but has a few independent bookstores, lovely restaurants and pubs, a decent little art museum, farmer’s, flea, antique and other street markets, distilleries, live theater and more than a few art galleries, at least three different spas and The New England Center for Circus Arts.

City I like: Reykjavik, Iceland

City I love: NYC

City I feel most myself in: Cambridge, MA?

City I dream of living in (again): Cambridge, MA
~~~
Jen and I are still binge-watching Northern Exposure and I continue to be disappointed in most of the characters and storylines. Maurice had a few epps in a row where he showed personal growth. That arc’s apparently now on vacation. Shelly continues to be a vapid, little, self obsessed bleach blonde teen. There was actually an episode employing the old exact-identical-(but very different)-twin trope. Ya know, we didn’t need a second, new Doctor Fleischmann (though his twin was an improvement). Couldn’t the writers have made a Chris (who wasn’t such a lady magnet? Unsure that would be possible.). A Marylyn who was now an outspoken, hell raising feminist? Shelly with a brain and compassion? (not sure that’s doable but it’d be interesting….maybe)

~~~
This is from a speech my pal Hillel recently gave while sitting shiva after his mother recently died.

I love this tapestry. I know there were a lot of dedicated and talented women who worked on it, but forgive me if it makes me think so much of my mother. Her stitching and esthetics are incorporated into it, and it is dedicated to her beloved husband, but that’s not even what I mean when I say it makes me think of her. My mother’s life was a tapestry, harmoniously blending so many elements and making the sum more than the parts.

I’m not surprised to see so many of you here for her today. Community was a vital, living part of my mother’s tapestry of life. Community is the air that she breathed. She gained sustenance from being with this kehillah, participating in it, sometimes leading it, reveling in its joys, commiserating in its sorrows. My father loved to say that “you can’t Jew it alone” and my mom felt that in her very bones. She was, in many ways, a pretty private person, but having and being in community gave her purpose and energy, and made her thrive.

For mom, a critical aspect of that community is Jewish living and learning. For her, those two things were inseparable. Going through my parents’ study over the last weeks, I found reams – literally reams – of notes, study materials, and teaching outlines for the innumerable classes that she took and courses that she taught here and elsewhere. And while Jewish subjects were paramount, she had broad curiosity about the world. Paul Applefield mentioned to me that he’d come visit mom one week and she’d have torah text open on her lap. He’d come a week later, and she’d be reading a book about the sculptures of Henry Moore. Mom never went anywhere without a book or a magazine article in her hand, you know, just in case she had to wait for an appointment to start or a parking spot to open up. She wanted to put that ten minutes to good use by soaking up some learning.

My mother learned from everyone and wanted to know about people’s lives and what is important to them. In the hospital recently, she asked the nurses how they came to be in their job and what their tattoos were all about. She would ask museum docents detailed questions about art and artifacts. She talked with plumbers and store clerks and neighbors and John the produce guy, not just about what they were doing or selling, but who they are and what is important to them. She regarded everyone with utmost respect for their background and perspective on the world. For my ima, everyone had something to teach and she wanted to learn.

Often, that learning was a prelude to appreciating the world’s beauty in all its forms. She loved to travel so she could see the world’s wonders first hand, and invariably the trip would include visits to the local art museums, libraries, and botanical gardens. So mom would learn beforehand about indigenous art and customs and flora, but she wanted to see it for herself, to immerse herself in it.

One of mom’s favorite Hebrew phrases was from the paragraph before the shema:
 וּבְטוּבוֹ מְחַדֵּשׁ בְּכָל יוֹם תָּמִיד מַעֲשֵׂה בְרֵאשִׁית, which refers to god as the force that, with kindness, renews creation continuously every day. My mother saw creation as an ongoing activity, a constant presence, and thought that it is our responsibility, not just to appreciate the beauty of the world, but to participate in the creation of the world. “Enjoy every moment” she would say to us, whether the moment was travel, going to a concert, being with friends, or spending time with family. For years, my brother and I have only half joked that our mother was a guru and her mantra was “enjoy every moment.”

Unquestionably, the thread that tied together my mother’s tapestry was family. She shared a life of deep love, profound respect, mutual interests, and mutual support with my father. She was Savta to my kids and beloved Aunt J to my cousins. She was our matriarch and she kept up with everyone’s struggles and accomplishments. I have the letters where I would confide in her about the angst of my 20s because I knew I could talk with her about those things. More recently, she talked a lot with her grandchildren about what they were doing, and not just in a "that's nice, dear" kind of way, but with genuine interest and curiosity. In October, she danced at my son Caleb’s wedding and just a couple of weeks ago, she tried to wrap her head around what my nephew Max does to create software that 3D prints prosthetics.

She wanted to know what everyone was doing and being because she took absolute glowing pride in the mark that her family was making on the world. It’s kind of a running joke in my family that at least two of my kids and several of my nieces and nephews are the fourth generation to work in the nonprofit world, god help them. But my mother was so happy about the positive things that her family does to improve the world, to reinvent it as a better place, to find their place in it, and to create the community and the loving personal connections that make that happen. During this past pesach, my mother’s health was already in severe decline, but when she was surrounded by 8 of her children and grandchildren, she so rose to the occasion. Sitting in her throne in her living room, surrounded by family at the seder, mom absolutely glowed with energy and naches*… Family was mom’s happy place.
 
My mother’s life wove together beauty, presence, learning, family, and so much love. I hope you know that all of you are a part of that. That’s a beautiful tapestry you have there.

I wish that, in the nearly 50 years that Hillel and I have been buds, that I’d spent more time with his Muti—his Mother.

What is the translation of muti?
In South African English, the word muti is derived from the Zulu/Xhosa/Northern Ndebele umuthi, meaning 'tree', whose root is -thi.

*Naches
     noun
pride or gratification, especially at the achievements of one's children.

May Mrs. Bromberg's memory be a massive blessing to all.

Drums

On Sunday evening, Ten, Jen, Oni and I went to see the Kodo Drummers of Japan at Boston’s Symphony Hall. I’ve been waiting for them to come around since I went deaf, 18 years ago. I first saw them 20+ years ago and figured, post deafness, I’d be able to experience music again. I mostly could too.

I wasn’t hearing the drumming as much as feeling it. The sound, the beats resonated through the wooden underside of my seat. I may’ve looked odd—hunched over, gripping the bottom of my chair—but I was there, drinking in the rhythms and booms. There were more subtle pieces (where shinobue flutes were featured, not drums) which I was unable to feel. I could see the men and women playing but no sound came through to me. 

Okay, there was one fairly delicate drum piece that felt/sounded like rain falling on a tin roof. It was gorgeous. I asked Jen if that’s how it sounded to her too. Yes, score one for the deafie!

I don't recall, from the show 20+ years ago, seeing women amongst the crew. On Sunday though, close to half the band were of the female persuasion. This may explain why only a few of the drummers were clothed in nothing but very white fundoshi (loincloth). Seeing this barely clad dude play that gigantic drum as though poised to do battle as well as the four men seated on the floor stretched out at 145º angles. They played mid-size drums which sat between their legs. It was pretty amazing. I could see every muscle at work as they smashed those skins. Grey’s Anatomy, the surgical (and artist) reference book on clinical anatomy came to mind as I watched. Yeah you’d think I’d get sexy-time vibes but no—I was thinking art—how awesome it would be to draw or paint them.

 The other thing that was different from a zillion years ago was that all the musicians were obviously having a blast—smiling, groovin' to the beats. There was a lot of joy on that stage—it radiated off of them. No stoicism for this lot.

The audience people-watching was fab too. In addition to the formerly dressed crowd, in the row ahead of us was a young man wearing a light red and white floral printed yukata with loose, flowing cotton pants. Two rows ahead were two women in full kimonos with obi. There are at least five sushi restaurants in the immediate area. I wondered if they’d come straight from work or had dressed to the nines just for the concert.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the planet, our man Hillel and his lovely wife are still in Northern India.

They visited Chand Baori (AKA Abhaneri Step Well) in the village of Abhaneri near Jaipur. It’s one of the deepest and largest step-wells in India.

You may be wondering, what in Vishnu’s name is a step-well (I was).

…these sprawling wonders of architecture and engineering provided communities with water for bathing, drinking, washing, and irrigation. Not ideal destinations for those with a fear of heights, stepwells descend several stories into the earth to connect to the water table. From there, a labyrinth of stairs leads back up to ground level. Many of these grand constructions also functioned as Hindu temples and were ornamented with pavilions, archways, stone sculptures of deities, and columns. (source)

This step well (dating from the 8th century) was built next to the Harshat Temple (7th century). Harshat Mata is/was the Goddess of Joy.

They also dropped in on the Taj Mahal who had been expecting them.

Day Five of the Israel Ride

Today was the final leg of the Israel Ride in support of the Arava Institute for Environmental Studies and Hazon. The crew biked from Ne’oot Smadar to Eilat.

Final Day Ride Report:

"Today's run took us along the Egyptian border. The terrain was some long steady climbs and similar descents and one several-mile pretty flat stretch where I wound up pulling a train* of several riders (minds out of the gutter, dear readers—this is a cycling expression. See below). 

The notable feature of the day was the 6-mile pretty steep descent into Eilat. Plenty of switchbacks meant that speed didn't get above about 35. On the straight downhill just before that, I set my high speed for the week at 42.1 mph.

Another pic. This, (at left), is the long hill leading up to the lunch stop (there has been no lack of food on this ride). See that castle-like thing on the hill in the back? (click on the image to embiggen it—yur welcome) That's an Egyptian security outpost. We were right on the border.

The curvy hill into Eilat was truly exhilarating. There was a moment when I came around a curve and saw the Red Sea in the distance. That's when it hit me that I had just ridden 258 miles over 5 days through some of the most breathtaking land I've ever seen. Thank you for coming with me."

Congratulations to Hillel and his 178 (approximately 178) fellow bike fiends!

* Glossary!

Pull
This means riding on the front of a paceline or peloton. To “take a pull” means you’re the person working the hardest since you’re not getting any benefits from drafting. In a rotating paceline, take a short pull, drift to the side, and then roll to the back of the line and let the next person pull. 

Draft until it’s your turn to be on the front again. This is a tactic used by groups for maximum efficiency on long rides or when there’s a strong headwind. (source)

Drafting
This involves cycling behind another rider so they block the wind for you. Cyclists like to take advantage of this because it requires about 30 percent less energy. (source)

Paceline (AKA train)
A formation in which riders (especially cycle racers) travel in a line one close behind the other in order to conserve energy by riding in the draft of the riders in front thus enabling the group to travel at a faster rate than any of the riders in the group could do alone. (source)

Day Four of the Israel Ride

Our man in the desert—on a bike with, presumably, no name—had another epic outing today.

The Ride Report:

"As you can see, this was mostly a downhill day, with one notable exception. Right out of Mitzpe, there was a hairy and fast descent with lots of switchbacks to the floor of the machtesh. Then we rolled pretty gently back up out of the valley with one long steep climb in the middle. 

The encampment pics are at the rest stop after that climb. Notice everyone clustered in the shade. There's not much of that around here. From there, it was a few long flat stretches ending with a glorious 3.5 mile downhill, again with switchbacks that required some concentration. I think I topped out today at almost 40 mph.(WOW!)

This afternoon, we'll tour the kibbutz then get a chance to talk with the current cohort of students who are working and studying here. We are staying nearby at Kibbutz Lotan which apparently has a teahouse of some kind.

Time to sit and relax for a while."

Tomorrow is the fifth and final day of the ride. Hillel will cycle from Kibbutz Lotan to the end point in Eilat. Our man on Tatooine has raised 4Gs for the Arava Institute for Environmental Studies and Hazon. All without, supposedly, leaving the planet. Nice magic, man!

Sunrise, Ibex and Grammar (oh my!)

That which does not kill me needs to up its game.
~ Friedrich Nietzsche (sort of…okay, not really)

I walked a hair over half a mile before 8AM this morning. What a great way to start the day! I was able to do it all in one go too—no rest stops. This might've been a first for yours-rehabbing-truly. 

Yesterday I did two thirds of a mile (YEA me!) but that was in two separate walks. It was a beautiful, warm day so the seawall was crowded with humans—this meant that strolling that wonderfully smooth, scenic path wasn’t safe for me (no one but me wears a mask anymore or so it seems).

Friday's first, longer walk, was done on our desperately bumpy neighborhood streets. Sure, they’re paved but for an old broad with shit balance, all the cracks, potholes and half assed repairs, are a significant challenge. The whole point here is that this first ramble should count as at least twice the actual distance since it was riddled with hurdles.

I know these distances don’t sound like much but, for me, I'm making brill progress (especially this morning’s half mile sans rest stops).
~~~

Today is Shabbat so the Israel Ride folk have the day off. Hillel tells me that the town they’re in until the Ride resumes tomorrow, Mitzpe Ramon, “has ibexes like Jerusalem has cats.. Seriously, they’re everywhere.”

Alright, now I REALLY have to go there!
~~~
I’m completely ignoring the news until after Tuesday's election—possibly longer. The lies, incessant projections and wholly bizarre fabrications coming from the Republi/Fascists are too heinously insane to tolerate. They'd be laughable if so many voting citizens weren't swallowing their poisoned tripe whole.

It just feels important to remember that no matter what monsters are out there, there’s nothing more dangerous than just plain people.
~ Stephen Blackmoore, Five Season 

~~~
About ten years or more past someone gave me a small, functional but WAY elderly electric kiln. It would have worked fine for low fire and I was working exclusively in terra cotta at the time.

I never used it. Warum? I was afraid I’d burn down the house the first time I fired the rickety, ancient thing. Now, a decade plus later, I realize that, realistically, I’m done working in clay and am never gonna fire that kiln.

I doubt there’s anyone who’d welcome this as a donation but maybe. If not, what can I do? Put it in the yard and turn it into a big ass planter?
~~~
In the gritty, death magic infused thriller I just finished, fuckton is all one word whereas shit-ton is hyphenated. Why is this? I asked Ten. He suggested that either the editor didn’t catch the inconsistency OR the difference was due to a Kindle word flow glitch. With Kindle, I can set the font to whatever size I need. Perhaps, in the text’s original, intended size both adjectives are hyphenated?

Was that my first thought? ‘Course not, I was all set to look up hyphenation rules in Strunk and White Which, ya know, I think I will anyway.

‘Scuse me, I gotta go jump down a grammar rabbit hole.

Day Three of the Israel Ride

As we all know, Hillel is cycling on the planet Tatooine right now. He claims he’s in Israel raising money (by biking great distances on the Israel Ride) for brilliantly worthy organizations. Those are the Arava Institute for Environmental Studies and Hazon. Alright, I believe Hillel but only because Tatooine is too far to go for one measly week.

Did you know? Biking 50 to 70 miles through the desert is some real hot ass, sweaty work. I know...duh.

"Yesterday was all about flat pedaling, today was all about hills. The end is at Mitzpe Ramon, which is at a higher elevation than Jerusalem. We started with back to back 1-1/3 mile climbs then a fairly easy run to Sde Boker where David Ben-Gurion is buried. The view out through the Wilderness of Zin is surreally gorgeous,  like a moonscape. 

From there, it was hill city. The longest climb was about 2.5 miles at an average gradient of 4%. I know that doesn't sound like much but believe me when I tell you that it was a long slog. After a break at the top, rolling hills got us to Mitzpe where I am happy to rest over shabbat. Back in the saddle on Sunday."

Our man on two wheels is holding up well and was at the front of the pack all day. Before the start of the ride he was wicked anxious about how he’d fair—been awhile since his last stretch of long distance riding. Hillel was pleasantly surprised to find that he’s def still got it.

GO Hillel! (Okay, GO but first, a day's rest)

If the anti-semites want to hate, let them hate, and let them go to hell.
~ David Ben-Gurion

Day Two of the Israel Ride

I’m pretty sure that Hillel is NOT, in fact, in Israel. Instead, I'm fairly certain he's on Tatooine. Yes, THAT Tatooine! Just look at these pics, fer fuck's sake—it’s totally obvious. N'est-ce pas? I expect young Skywalker photo bombed a bunch of shots which Hillel discreetly chose not to send.

I'm on to you, man!
Without further adieu, here’s the day two Israel Ride report from our man on the road:

"…coming into the northern Arava. We rode gently uphill much of the day, but not really. In fact, this is a kind of riding that I like the least: looong stretches of pretty dead flatland, which means it's all pedal, pedal, pedal with no break. Parts were breezy but not as bad as yesterday.

The first 15 miles or so were along a four lane highway, so that was not much fun, but the next stretch was through agricultural land with untrafficked and pretty good roads (except for the gravelly bits). In fact, almost all of the roads here have been quite good.

The first rest stop overlooked Gaza with a view toward Gaza City. We heard from a woman who has lived nearby for much of her life and she talked about what it's like to always be under threat of rocket fire. I would have liked to hear from the ones firing those rockets.

Our last stop was atop a bit of a plateau and my phone pics can't do justice to the vast spaces. For you bibliophiles, this week we read לך לכה. The land we were looking at is exactly where Avraham wandered when he left Haran.

Now we rest at this lovely kibbutz and tomorrow we climb. I'll definitely be ready for a day off after that. Shabbat at Mitspe Ramon will be a welcome break."

Watch out for the Jawas and Tusken Raiders, Hillel!

Day One of the Israel Ride

A snap from just before Rideout—the start

Hillel texted me at the end of today’s trek—9AM Boston time/3PM Israel time. He allowed that, in point of fact, he is still alive. Hillel and his cycling crew peddled 57 miles from Jerusalem to just south of Ashdod.

I have a question (don't I always?)—what’s the proper term for a bunch of bicyclers? Ya know, a flock of crows is a murder—a murder of crows. Ten tells me that just a few crows (three to be all precise and shit) constitutes a crowd of crows. An assload of parrots is a pandemonium. A few parrots? That’s, obviously, a paucity of parrots. A magnitude of plumbers would be a flood of plumbers, right?

So, what would an Israel Ride worth of cyclists be? Possibly a cyclone—a cyclone of cyclists? Would a small number be a scintilla of cyclists?

Just FYI—I totally blame Ten for taking me down this rabbit hole. And yes, he’s accepted full responsibility.

The Israel Ride is a fundraiser for the Arava Institute for Environmental Studies and Hazon.

Located on Kibbutz Ketura in southern Israel, the Arava Institute is dedicated to training the next generation of environmental leaders—Israelis, Palestinians, Jordanians, and students from around the world. By studying cutting-edge approaches to water resource management, ecology, sustainable agriculture, and renewable energy, students at the Arava Institute learn to collaborate around their shared environmental concerns.

Know what's really cool? Hillel can text and send me pics from 5,504 miles away. I can follow along as though I'm actually there...sort of.

Clinging to Sanity with Dark Chocolate

My first brain surgery was in late October of 1982. I was 24 years old. My roommate Cindy and her beau showed up in costume Halloween night. She was kitted out in a handmade skeleton costume (black body suit with white fabric bones pasted over top). Steve, who was a tall, husky guy, was in a costume shop gorilla suit. They brought me a tiara and mask to wear—the nurses were delighted. I'm all about entertaining the nurses.

My parents came up for the surgery and my mother stayed on until I was discharged 10 days later. She still had hearing and great balance then and stayed at a convent way up on Beacon Hill. I don’t know how she finagled that but mother could be quite resourceful and endearing when needs arose.

In any case, she brought me a big bag of dark chocolate covered cherries. Those had been my favorite when I was little and, at this dark scary time, she remembered. Given that I was mother's least favorite child, to say the very least, I was stunned and touched. Maybe she didn’t wholly despise me after all?

Mother died 10 years ago on Halloween. Jen gave me a box of dark chocolate cherries yesterday—Halloween.
~~~
I have a persistent tummy ache and I know what that’s about—the midterm elections. I’ve been avoiding the polls and then I tripped over one that puts the Republi/Fascists WAY ahead at winning the House.

Zut alors! HOW can that be?! The grifters and Former Guy asslicking candidates are so transparently unqualified and vile. Are the vast majority of Americans irretrievably stupid, lazy or too damn wealthy and white for laws and government to matter? Laws and rules? Those are for the the little people.

Being a pessimist would be easier on me, I think. Instead of waking up to the shock and horror of Shrub being re-elected and the nuclear devastation of the Carnelian Con conniving his way into the White House, I would expect nothing else. Yes BUT...then I’d be depressed 24/7.

Mind you, I’m well aware that not all Southerners and MidWesterners are heartless, bigoted, ant-headed, violence craving trolls. Really! I know that much of the problem is that districts have been gerrymandered to hell and beyond. HOW can that be remedied when the Fascists have already put in the fix? Seriously—HOW?

Are the voters of GA-14, CO-3, CA-23, OH-4, TX-01, etc. predominately credulous, fact averse, loony tune, Q-anon tribble brains? Were these voters born without a functional prefrontal cortex?
~~~

Hillel is in Israel now for the fundraising Israel Ride. The cycling kicks off tomorrow. The last few days have been devoted to getting un-jetlagged and taking in some sights like the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem.

…the oldest extant Islamic monument. The structure is situated on a flat elevated plaza known to Muslims as al-Ḥaram al-Sharīf (“The Noble Sanctuary”) and to Jews as the Temple Mount (the site where the Temple of Jerusalem once stood). (source)

The Dome of the Rock sits on top of the Temple which King Solomon built in 1000 BCE (it was destroyed by the Romans in 70 CE). Abd al-Malik ibn Marwān, the fifth caliph of the Umayyad Arab dynasty had the mosque built in the 7th century CE.

My god, that’s an old pile! Hillel also tells me that there are a LOT of cats in Jerusalem. AWESOME!

For the ride, there are different routes based on what each rider can realistically do. They range from 150 – 350 miles, to be peddled over five days. Our man Hillel hopes to do the longer route.

All power to him!

Tea New York

A post from my fabulous tea guru pal Hillel: 
 ~~~
I don’t like New York City. Never have. The burg just vibrates at the wrong frequency for me. Too many folk moving too fast to too many places. Or something. I can stand about a weekend’s worth of NYC every couple of years, then I high myself back to my Boston suburb and take deep cleansing breaths.

But last weekend, I was on a mission. I went to New York for a pot of tea. Two pots actually.

Last Saturday, my wife and I were in the city for exactly seven hours, during which time we met up with our son and niece, who came in from Philadelphia; had a catch-up lunch with them; the three of them went to see Hamilton; I went to explore tea houses; and we dropped them off at Penn Station before we caught the Go Bus back home. A worthwhile whirlwind.

My first stop was at Té Company, a charming place a block from Christopher Street in the West Village. The place is tiny, minute even. The serving area can’t be larger than 10’ x 14’ and seats 14 people. The server asked if I’d be willing to share a table once a chair was available and asked again once I was seated if I’d mind sharing should the need arise. Alas, it didn’t – I would have loved to talk tea with a stranger.
Té Company specializes in Taiwanese oolongs, though they have a few other styles too. After some dithering, I opted for the Jade Rouge, which comes from Sun Moon Lake in Taiwan. It was a perfect exemplar of the style, full of cinnamon and camphor, with a honey finish. They serve it properly, with a sharing pitcher and a thimble size cup. For each tea order, they gladly refill the steeping vessel so you can enjoy the different flavors as the leaves unfold and release more of their hidden flavors and aromatics. I can’t wait to try the Oriental Green that I brought home. Té Company has a small browsing library and I found a couple of books that I’ll need to add to my collection: The Soul & Spirit of Tea, and The Meaning of Tea, which accompanies a documentary of the same name.

I could have happily stayed there all day, but wanted to make the most of my limited time, so off I went to Cha-an Teahouse, about 15 minutes away in the NYU neighborhood, tucked away on the second floor of a side street (I had to go around the block to get there because there was, no joke, a fire being put out three doors over from Cha-an. When I said to the guy at the door that I wasn’t sure they’d be open given what was going on, he just shrugged in blasé NY style and said, “We’re open, it’s just a little smoky.”) Inside, there were a few Westerners in sight, but the ambient language was Japanese, including the orders shouted into the kitchen that sounded like the Japanese version of short order orders.

The Chiran Sencha I quaffed was incredible: fresh, lightly vegetal, clean as an ocean breeze. A bit peckish by now, I paired it with a “sakura drop,” without knowing exactly what that is. What emerged looked like a gigantic, perfectly transparent dewdrop with delicate flowers embedded. The texture was a slightly thicker version of the jello we all remember from childhood and the flavor was somewhat nondescript until I poured a bit of the accompanying brown sugar syrup onto it. Then the whole thing came alive to fill my palate with a perfect balance of texture, smoky, and sweet.

If the desserts were that good, I can only imagine what the rest of the food is like, but Hamilton was entering its final scenes and it was time for me to head back uptown, happily tea drunk and enjoying a perfect spring day. The transition from quiet teahouse to the heart of Times Square was jarring and reminded me of all the reasons I don’t spend time in the city, but my whole family was flying high from our varied adventures in NYC. In all, we achieved satisfaction, family time, escape, and balance. Seven hours well spent.
~~~
On top of being one of my best chums, Hillel is an International Tea Masters Association-certified tea sommelier and the driving force of Tea Oasis, a traveling tea tasting company, dedicated to sharing the wonder, joy and magnificent tastes of tea.

The Pan-Mass Challenge

Hillel’s gearing up for this year’s Pan Mass Challenge.

Was ist das, you might ask.

The Pan-Mass Challenge raises money for life-saving cancer research and treatment at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute through an annual bike-a-thon that crosses the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Since its founding in 1980, the PMC has successfully melded support from committed cyclists, volunteers, corporate sponsors and individual contributors. All are essential to the PMC's goal and model: to attain maximum fundraising efficiency while increasing its annual gift. Our hope and aspiration is to provide Dana-Farber's doctors and researchers with the necessary resources to discover cures for all cancers. (source)

Hillel does this wild, draining, incredible, 190 mile marathon every year or close to it. Here, read his words:

Dear friends and family,

Until recently, I thought this would be an unusual year. I started riding the Pan-Mass Challenge in 2003 and just about every year since then, someone I know has been diagnosed or succumbed to cancer. I had hoped that this year would be an exception. Alas, I dedicate this ride to the memory of Howard Saltzberg. I wouldn’t say he succumbed – Howard never surrendered to much of anything – but he lost his battle with cancer and leaves a hole in our lives.

Cancer is part of the fabric of our times. There is no cure, as such, because it is far too complex and is brought about by innumerable environmental, genetic, and random factors. While we cannot realistically hope for a cure, we can still do a lot to mitigate, even eliminate, symptoms, ensure that victims and their families live long lives with strength and dignity, and in more and more cases, beat back the evils cells until they have no impact at all.

That’s what the good folks at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute do. And as I’ve done since 2003, I ask you to help them in their work. The PMC provides about 40 percent of Dana-Farber’s unrestricted budget. That’s a lot of research, clinical trials, and compassionate care giving that you have helped make happen. Please continue to do so by kicking into my PMC campaign. I’m putting in the training miles so I’m prepared to ride from Sturbridge to Provincetown on August 6 and 7. All you need to do is put in a few shekels. Preferably more than a few.

You know the drill: click right here and put in as big an amount as you can manage. With your help, perhaps next year will be the unusual one. Thank you so much for helping us get there.

See you on the road.

~~~~~~~~~
So then, open up the ol’ wallet and pledge – you know you want to.

Tea Oasis!

My buddy Hillel’s got an exciting announcement!

Hello friends.

Today is International Tea Day and there could be no better time to announce that my new venture, Tea Oasis, is now open for business!

Tea Oasis will bring the culture, history, variety, and many flavors of tea into your home or office in a fun, interactive, and delicious tasting session. Please check out my website and FaceBook page for more details, and follow me on Twitter for tea-related updates.

If you or your workplace want to know more about how to explore the world in a cup of tea, please drop me a line. I look forward to sipping with you soon.

peace,

Hillel

Tasting sessions, you say? What is this?

At these engaging 1-2 hour sessions, you’ll learn about what tea is, how it’s made, where it comes from, its fascinating history, health benefits, and much more. Along the way, you’ll taste several different kinds of tea to get a feel for what they’re all about. The best size for a session is up to about three dozen people (we can do larger groups, but it gets a bit unwieldy and is not as good for the participants). We supply all of the tea, cups, handouts, etc. All we need from you is a table and an outlet. It’s that easy.

A Tea Oasis tasting session is perfect for company meetings, wellness or lunch & learn programs, birthday parties, bridal showers, community education, organization socials, dorm activities, library and book groups, and house parties.

Open your palate to the remarkable variety of loose leaf tea. Delicate whites and yellows, buttery oolongs, refreshing greens, and deep, rich pu-ehrs. Come spend some time getting to know tea’s delightful flavors and aromas, as well as its fascinating history, health benefits, and ceremonies from around the world. You’ll sample several varieties and learn how to steep tea for best flavor.

Hillel the Tea Dude (it's official!), travels to your place of biz, party house, home or, honestly, anywhere, to show and tell all about tea. There's an easy peazy contact page on his website—just scroll down past the pretty tea leaf and tippy tap away.

Not in the Greater Boston area? Contact the Tea Dude anyway. 

He may know a Tea Dude or Dudette in your area OR maybe he'll travel. Ya never know until you ask!