It's not every day your dad publishes a poem. But he sure did today. In the Christian Science Monitor. Nor is it every day he calls and tells you he was walking past his car, pointed at it with his crooked finger and the powerlocks went down. His explanation was that he had magic in his finger, so he proceeded to try it again a few dozen more times just to see if he had aquired some new finger power, though, it would appear he had not. Of course there are other explanations, such as the possibility he imagined the episode, or a wave of magnetism passed by just at the moment he crooked his finger, or, of course, that he has just crazy. Or that my mother secretly hit the powerlock thing on his key ring to torment him and then thought herself so funny she watched him puzzling over it for a few hours. But there isn't much to do all day long on vacation, and if it amuses him to try to hone his ability to move the powerlocks with his finger, who am I to disagree?

Apart from the weather, which, today, July 10th, is 56 degrees, there is very little to tell what month it is around here. Also, in different parts of town, it is much warmer. In a few days I'll be in LA, in Pasadena staying at the Ritz. Normally travel for work means staying in a slightly less fancy hotel than that, but this is special. So I have that to look forward to, though I'm not sure how I'm going to get around, since I find all directions involve other towns, even on the highways, they don't say north or south, they just have two towns, like Freemont and Barstow, and you're supposed to know which is in the direction you wish to go. Which I object to. I don't see the point. There is a fight on because some local town with a bunch of Indians from India wants to put up a sign on the highway that says India Town, or Little India or something, to get more people to have vindaloo peas. But the locals are in an uproar about it, saying it would not reflect diversity, even though this particular town was blighted until the Indians came in and revitalized the local economy. Speaking of crazy California politics, a bunch of idiots have put a petition together to oust the governor, and everyone is saying Arnold Schwarznegger will be the new Republican governor to replace him. Which could happen, because even though Arnold was a joke until the Terminator made him joke he was in on, he'd be like Jesse Ventura. Everyone says there is a lot of dirt on him, but this special replacement election is really fast, so there won't be time to talk about how he cheated on his wife and did a bunch of bad stuff. Allegedly.

We went out with Wendy to Temple Emanuel, which is the big synagogue in town. It looks like a 1920's millionaire's mansion, complete with an interior courtyard. All it needs is a guy like Erol Flynn walking around in a silk smoking jacket. It is also in a part of town filled with amazing houses. On the way there, I found a Citizen watch, but I left it on top of a mail box.

Services were extremely reform. In fact, there basically were no services to speak of. There was a line up of about nine people playing guitar, flute, drums, clarinet and other guitars, and the whole thing from start to finish was sung in harmony. The audience sang along the whole way. It was kind of like going to a Cat Stevens concert. There was a break in the middle, when the lesbian rabbi gave what would normally be the sermon, only her's was just some glancing story about how a friend of her's had delivered a cow, and her point was that we all shouldn't be so uptight. Plus, of course, she couldn't resist sticking in a few bits about the Palestinians and their right to the Temple Mount. All in all, it was nice to see the crowd all having a good time, but it was mostly mystifying and very un-Jewish to me. There was even what seemed like a gospel song at one point sung a capella, that went "Even when I can't feel love, I BELIEVE, and even when I DONT BELIEVE. . I BELIEVE" To which I say, oy.