I'm sitting here, thinking of what to write, listening to an online radio station, dmoos.com. My friend Russ Horton owns the station. Dmoos.com makes me smile. There are no commercials and some great music! That brought a smile to my face.
Today, we celebrated yet another milestone in the family; our thirteen-year-old cousin, David, became a Bar Mitzvah, today. In the Jewish religion, having or becoming a Bar or Bat, for the 13 year old girls, Mitzvah means you are now considered an adult, responsible for your own actions.
Before I tell you about today's events, let's travel back forty-something years ago, to Poughkeepsie, NY, where I had my Bar Mitzvah. The service was in the temple and so was the party. There was a large multipurpose room attached to the building; it acted as a party room, gym and auditorium. All those years ago, there were no fancy parties.
The one thing I really like about going to family parties is getting to see relatives and friends that we don't get to see other than at these events. Today, we saw cousins Bob and Joan, from Connecticut. The last time we saw them was in January of 2013 at the Bar Mitzvah of my nephew Evan.
I told Joan that she must have a picture in the attic ageing, since she certainly isn't. She looks the same as when I first met her twenty-two years ago. Now, let's feel old; she told me her daughter Stephanie, whom I remember as a young kid, is now a mother of 4, including a set of twins. Holy Time Warp Batman, where did it fly?
Then of course there's the Bar Mitzvah boy himself, David, who couldn't stop smiling the entire time. Of course, he couldn't stop smiling because the party was for him. He got to dance with a hot girl and collected many envelopes filled with gelt. His sister Julia had a great time as well and we'll be attending her party in a couple of years.
Next year we'll be attending the Bat Mitzvah of my cousin Melanie. I remember her first as a baby, then a gangly little girl and now she is very cute, mature pre-teen. She and Julia get along so well and they look like sisters.
The best smile is from a random act that you sometime do. In supermarkets, by little old women also ask me to get something down from the top shelf. If I get a smile and a thank you, that makes me happy.
When you're driving, in busy traffic, you let someone in front of you or let him or her turn and get what Jerry Seinfeld refers to as "the wave?" It's not quite the same as a smile, but certainly easier to see between cars. The opposite is quite true too when someone flips the bird.
Remember one thing: it takes fewer facial muscles, twelve, to smile than it does to frown, which takes sixty-three muscles flexed several times. Smiling is green.
Matt Seinberg lives on Long Island, a few minutes east of New York City. He looks at everything around him and notices much. Somewhat less cynical than dyed in the wool New Yorkers, Seinberg believes those who don't see what he does like reading about what he sees and what it means to him. Seinberg columns revel in the silly little things of life and laughter as well as much well-directed anger at inept, foolish public officials. Mostly, Seinberg writes for those who laugh easily at their own foibles as well as those of others.
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