Chanukah is over and we are now dealing with the repercussions of wantonly indulging in crispy, crunchy, melt in your mouth potato latkes and overdosing on sugary, chocolaty, jelly-oozing donuts.
In honor of Chanukah, a time of joy, I have been delving into the realm of Jewish music.
Whenever I have a speaking engagement, I always ask people to turn on their cell phones.
In Canada and the U.S., the government has passed new legislation to protect us.
It may sound like the starkest of contradictions, but Abigail Pogrebin's Stars of David: Prominent Jews Talk About Being Jewish (Broadway Books) is as depressing as it is addictive.
Last week I wrote about how some well-meaning professionals can manipulate the situation in order to get you to do what they feel is in your best interest.
Gift giving is a real challenge for many parents during Chanukah.
"In 1478 at the request of the Spanish sovereigns Ferdinand and Isabella, Pope Sixtus IV (1471-84) issued a papal bull allowing for the creation of the Spanish Inquisition.
Since the time of Avraham Aveinu, Jews have observed the mitzva of having their sons circumcised on the eighth day after birth.
One cannot fully appreciate the life and accomplishments of Aaron Lopez (1731-1782) unless one is familiar with the history of the Inquisition.
It was not easy to maintain tradition and religious observance in the sparsely settled American colonies.
"The twenty-three Jews who sailed into New Amsterdam harbor on a September day in 1654 were to found the first Jewish community in what is today the United States.
In 1654 the Portuguese recaptured the city of Recife, Brazil from the Dutch. This marked the end of the vibrant Jewish community that had flourished under the Dutch beginning in 1630.
Many people know that on September 7, 1654, twenty-three Jews arrived in New Amsterdam (renamed New York after the Dutch left).
I was at a recent fundraiser on behalf of Israel's Beit Halochem institutions. In Hebrew, beit halochem means the house of the warrior and that is what these centers are - a home away from home for disabled Israeli soldiers and wounded victims of Islamic terror and violence.
Most people over 40 have experienced a time or two when their mind just goes blank.
Last week I told Moshe's and Richard's stories. These two men gave their all to their jobs despite the diseases that made it more and more difficult to do so.
The year 2004 marked the 350th anniversary of Jewish settlement in America.
Pesach seemed heavier this year. I'm not talking in terms of the tremendous amount of food that was consumed or the seemingly endless lifting, bending, scrubbing, scouring and cooking that is part and parcel of pre and post Passover preparations as well as during the chag.
My generation, for the most part, had a very strong work ethic. It came, perhaps, because many of us grew up as children of immigrants and we inherited it from our parents.
We want people to behave toward us in a certain way. When they don't, we get angry.
Over the years I always wondered why Hashem - the Master and Creator of the Universe - was so machmir - so adamant in having us mortals sing his praises and thank him all the time.
Last week I shared part of a letter by a mother of a chronically ill child.
You would have to be hiding under a rock to be unaware of the sad and drawn-out death of a severely brain damaged woman called Terri Schiavo, whose husband and legal guardian made the decision to have her life-sustaining feeding tube removed.
Birthdays, anniversaries, life cycle events are all times we look forward to.