HARE TODAY, AND WHAT TOMORROW?

HARE TODAY,  AND WHAT TOMORROW?

by Joy Krauthammer

January 9, 2007

  

An afternoon out with the gals  Hare.

Hare and I always have the best time together. I have had our date today on my calendar for weeks.  Hare is so totally booked up all the time, day and night, that it is an honor to be able to have some time with my fine fun friend.  I thought, last week, looking at my calendar that I had a conflict.  I found out about a writing class while scanning The Jewish Journal web last week. I was looking for one of my stories which was to be published, and instead I noticed the Calendar item for a writing workshop. I called the teacher, Jeanette Shelburne and found that the newspaper had made a mistake and in fact the class was not last week but would be this week. I was a little disappointed thinking I would miss it because I had my date planned with Hare.

Hare called this morning, receiving my reminder call yesterday, and we talked about what we could do today. I mentioned going with her to a new fancy spa for a massage, and I mentioned the writing class, never for an instant thinking that Hare would be interested because this woman wrote for the College paper and was one of the best writers; I know because I read her stories. I loved her story of the college pond. Even Hare's daughter is an editor with a famous publisher. Hare was going to write a story on me and interviewed me at length. Her former English professor became a good friend of hers.  Hare was even the student speaker at graduation this last May, because she is the best.  Imagine graduation with receiving seven, yes, seven different certificates and diplomas.  Wheww, but then she was a student at Pierce College for 42 years and finally graduated. She made history. I was so proud of Hare at her graduation. Her husband, son and daughter and I all cheered her like crazy. The thousand guests and graduates knew who Hare's family was.

I mentioned to Hare, the "Family History--Life Story Writing Class" and surprisingly, she said, "YES."  She too, had never had a writing class. How could that be?  No more conflict for me. My good buddy was going with me. We actually never wrote in class but listened to others read their stories written before the Winter holidays or in a previous semester or maybe the hour before.

Before going to class, Hare and I decided between having lunch at Greek, Mexican, Chinese or Middle Eastern fare.  Hare and I went down the street to a good veggie Chinese restaurant. I usually just go to a veggie Chinese place in my neighborhood, but since we were in the South Valley, it is a good choice, and Hare and I shared two different yummy meals. Nothing like fake chicken--no faces that way. We have friends who say that they "won't eat anything with a face". 

On other outings we have shared Afghanistani food. That place is now gone, literally the building is not even there. I felt a little peculiar at the time of that meal, wondering what the politics were of the restaurant owners.  I was not happy that Afghani's had torn down important religious old huge Buddha statues. I stopped eating Ameci's Pizza at the time also until I figured out that the owners and workers were not the bad guys. I stopped eating at what I thought was a Greek restaurant, Greco's, when I found the owner was Syrian. I felt culturally betrayed. Syrians had been raining down missles on Israel and I was not going to eat at Greco's even if the food was good fake Greek food.  True, almost 30 years ago, I always ate with my family at Angela's Italian restaurant, and it turned out that the owner was Jewish. Ah, maybe she was Jewish Italian? My husband, may he rest in peace, claimed that maybe he was Jewish Italian. Where else could you get a good veggie Minestrone soup?  Next best thing to Kosher.  At least today there was an authentic Chinese waitress in the Chinese restaurant. Wonder what nationality the veggie chef was?

Hare and I left for our first class at the Senior Citizen Center. We were on time, and clearly the youngest ones present; about the age of the teacher. Small world that it is, the teacher belongs to the same shul where Hare and I are members and that shul is not even in our Valley. Knowing that we were landsmen felt good. The teacher recognized me from being a percussionist at B'nai Horin / Children of Freedom.

I was happy to find this class especially because I received advertising for a UCLA writing class: "Finding the Words to Say It: The Healing Power of Poetry" offered from the Pediatric Pain Dep't., and as much as the UCLA class would be perfect for me, the class is in LA off the 405 at Pico in the evenings. I rarely go out at night; Only for shul and drumming. I can't concentrate and I don't see well at night, and I fall asleep on the road, or have in the past. So I avoid this problem. If someone is a passenger with me, it is less dangerous. Because I feel so tired, fatigued at night, even with a friend, the driving is hard. Last week I came home from LA in the dark, and had not drank coffee which normally I never drink, so for the drive home, I got the restaurant waiter where I was to give me a cup of ICE. I put it on my thighs, my forehead, mouth, anywhere to chill myself into driving alertness in addition to keeping the window open and sixties music loudly on.

Last week with friends, I went to the mud baths at Glen Ivy Hot Springs, and it was a long drive home, couple hours in the evening, so friends and I stopped to eat Italian at Maria's Kitchen in LA. It was good. Can't even remember what the meal was because I filled up on yummy garlic "knots", little mini moist garlic rolls. Ate too many so the meal was superfluous.  At least the young art student, cute, eh, really handsome, long dark haired waiter was named appropriately, Anthony. Good Italian food, if not authentic.

Back to today's writing class.  Fascinating for me to listen to the stories of the mostly women in the class numbering 18 people, two men. I counted; Good Jewish number 18, chai--life. What was fascinating? The fact that most of the stories involved lives of Jewish people. One writer had lived in Paris, and on the Seine, Champs-Elysee and at the Arc d' Triumph had a beshert romantic rendezvous with an American student returning from Israel. I had chills listening to the woman's story of how she met her husband. 

Other writers were Jewish in Russia, Cairo, Cuba, Bronx--east and west, Queens, and Brooklyn and now the Valley. To me it was amazing that the majority of our writing students were refugees from anti-Semitic countries and had escaped to land in America. Hare was born in Bangor, Maine, not exactly NY 'fer sure', but her daughter now lives and works in NY. (The son hangs out a lot in China.)  When class ended I asked the teacher why most of the class is Jewish and in a not so Jewish neighborhood. Jeanette responded that Jews like to talk and are communicators.  (Certainly true for me.)

One story in class today interested me; A Jewish woman had finally, decades ago, escaped from Cuba. Sharing an egg with the family was difficult enough, but not able to even receive a single egg on the food line and for needy children, was beyond the beyond. NO human rights honored.  After her story, I shared with Feiguela or Fanny, that my in-laws had been married in Havana and the father had even founded a synagogue there, probably around the time that she left. They were escapees from other Holocaust, Nazi occupied countries. Feiguela asked for my last name. "Krauthammer," I answered. She looked at me and said that there is a known writer by that name. I responded, "Yes, I know who he is."

Feiguela then said, "His brother died."  How strange for me to be hearing this fact, this story.  "He is my husband", I said, "The brother who died a year ago this week." It really is my husband's first yahrzeit!  I thought maybe she had read the eulogy a year ago;  the famous internationally published story titled, "My Brother, Marcel." I asked Fannie how she knew the brother had died. Feiguela said that she "listens to Dennis Prager", the radio host, and he mentions this fact at times when he talks about his friend, the political analyst Charles Krauthammer. I too have heard Dennis say this. Feiguela also watches my husband's brother on TV.  Of all the facts, pieces of political knowledge that the woman could have shared with me, but it was this personal piece of information that had made an impression on Feiguela and that she shared with me, not knowing the relationship.  I wonder how Fannie felt realizing the sharing of the coincidence and of saying to the 'widow' of the dead brother, "His brother died."  I entered this class today because of all the cathartic writing I have been doing about the processing of pain, loss and grieving.

After three hours, class ended and Hare was telling me about the ripe soft sapote fruits in her garden. She was going on to school but invited me to go to her garden to eat the sapotes which were already picked and sitting on a waiting tray. "Take the whole tray," she said, "otherwise they will be gushy to handle."  I would have rather gone to Hare's garden with Hare, but I did enter on my own, and I ate the strange ripe mellow sapotes right there on the spot. They are similar to very ripe pears with pits and seeds. I also tried a couple juicy tangerines from the many citrus laden trees and left the skin in the mulch pile. What a divine play yard. Oh, I even ate a small orange colored ripe kumquat, my favorite. I was like a hare in her garden; a rabbit nibbling on everything.  I did not think Hare would mind that I even took a leaf off a lettuce head in the raised bed. No washing needed I was sure; just nibbled it fresh and loved the thought that probably I had never had a lettuce leaf so fresh in my life. Looking around the garden I was really hoping that I would find persimmons on a tree. Gone.  We have had the best parties at Hare's garden over the years, Sukkot and birthdays, and.. and here I was alone at my own rabbit party in her garden. Just no fresh squeezed juices or Hare's home-made soups from the garden's veggies. Hare always gives me beautiful baskets of the best bounty from her garden, Armenian cucumbers without skin, tastiest tomatoes... I eat a lot of it before I even drive home.

It was fun walking though the heavily mulched garden, my Birkenstocks sinking into the deep moist thick leafy protective ground cover.  I am hoping that I did a good deed; I found a  hose turned on sprinkling a  tree. I turned it off, thinking it was possible that Hare had forgotten to turn it off.  No one was in the house to verify. I called. I was looking for Hare's sheep. I did not see them. One Chanukah, Hare's husband carved spinning bobs for us in the shape of dreidles.

Knowing especially that I used to weave and spin yarn, one year for my birthday, Hare hired a sheep shearer to come shear the sheep. What an experience!  I needed my inhaler because the sheep wool was so filled with dust. The lanolin is awesome fresh off the hair. Great birthday present. Another year Hare had Yale College's famous women's a cappella choir “Whim ’n Rhythm" sing me Happy Birthday in her garden. The Choir was visiting, as her daughter Mara was in the choir and as organizer on their way to a summer of overseas concerts.  Hare got me the biggest Happy Birthday cake, and sadly Hare was sick in bed and missed the whole joyous evening. 

Hare and I have been friends for, I think, exactly 29 years as this is now 2007. Our babies were in Mommy & Me class together since the young age of three months, probably since this month January 1978, 29 years ago.   Hare reminded me today how we went to the LA Children's Museum before it was even open when our children were in strollers.  And Hare reminded me how we went to the Japanese Gardens before the public was tuned into it. True again. ( I knew about these places because I wrote/published an ARTS newsletter called "Kid Kulture".) For Hare's October 1st birthday couple years ago, I took her to Sterling Gardens in Calabassas. We had a great time wandering about the flowers, trees and sculptures. This last year her birthday fell out around the Jewish High Holidays. I took Hare out for Chinese, what else should a good Jew do in beginning the New Year.

I produced an event at a shul for this last Shabbat and Hare and her dear husband were both there supporting me in my endeavors.  I loved seeing them.  Hare and I have been involved with a group of local women for at least 25 years, all having children the same age.  Hare and I are the adventuresome ones. We are always out to discover fascinating places, and how to just enjoy ourselves together. We never have enough time to talk about everything. We have drummed together and danced together. This last summer we went dancing at the Skirball Cultural Center's Sunset Concerts.  Last year at my daughter's engagement party in friend Barbara’s lush garden, we also danced to the live Jewish sounds of singer Cindy Paley and I drummed.  Was great fun. 

I don't recall when Hare changed from her name Harriet, but writing Hare here is making the transition easier for me, because I was never comfortable with her new chosen nickname, but I must respect it. Now I even act like a hare. I used to own one when I was young. (Hare gave me a birthday present of a non-glazed ceramic rabbit pot for the garden. She probably found pot in a second-hand shop as she loves hunting for treasures in second-hand shops.)

About 25 years ago, Hare saw me on a fast food eatery ordering line with my little daughter and we talked. "What are you going to do when you grow up?" Hare asked me.

Well, I am writing now, and I have worn more that a few hats during all these years of friendship. I still can't answer Hare's question, but on these journeys in discovering ourselves, and our world, and even writing about it all, I just hope that Hare always has time for me in her busily booked days and nights. We always have the best time together.  What will we do together next?

Hare and Joy

~ ~ ~

June 30, 2019 shared again and posted with love to Hare and her family. 

We'll get together soon. We are "getting older".

Today, 27 Sivan is our friend Suzanne's z"l, 3rd yahrzeit. 

Valley friends for about 4 decades. 

L > R

Joy, Adina, Carol, Annette

Barbara, Hare

(Suzanne, ill, died a few weeks later.)