Mad Magazine is no more … a moment of silence, please … I grew up with Mad during the days immediately preceding puberty and into early puberty. The magazine was wonderfully iconoclastic for a kid who was confined by the suffocating strictures of hyper-fundamentalist Christianity – the church I grew up in thought Billy Graham was a dangerous liberal because he talked with the Pope occasionally … seriously! – and parents with a grossly over-developed respect for sheer authority, especially church authority. Basically, my adolescence was eerily similar to what I imagine people go through who live in North Korea – constantly under surveillance, allowed almost no individual freedom, perpetually evaluated by the fundamentalist God (the Celestial Kim Jong Hoozis du jour), etc., etc.
"A woman in Brooklyn decided to prepare her will. She told her rabbi she had two final requests. First, she wanted to be cremated. Second, she wanted her ashes scattered over the local shopping mall. 'Why the shopping mall?' asked the rabbi. 'Then I'll be sure my daughters will visit me twice a week.' This article was originally published in Brooklyn. I met my Jewish friend, Laurel, when she came to a meeting at our local Insight Meditation Center on the San Francisco Peninsula where we now live. We got on right away. We both like Broadway shows, opera, reading, writing, and good meals seasoned with great conversation. We're both from New York and we're about the same age. So we come from the same time and the same place. Now New York moms get a bad rap, especially Jewish moms - b
at sunrise with its schmears of cream cheese clouds against the quince-colored morning light, Mrs. Goldberg is out of bed ~ a military tactician in war-time, no dust-bunny is safe, every grease spot is enzyme-bombed, the wash thrashed by machine, then hung or folded, put in place, her windows wiped, her floors scrubbed and woe betide wee crawling creatures, so intent is Mrs. G on genocide (Just a little something for a smile today!) © 2015, poem, Jamie Dedes (The Poet by Day The BeZine, and Coffee, Tea and Poetry), All rights reserved; the 1908 Good Housekeeping cover designed by American illustrator John Cecil Clay (1875-1930) is in the public domain