Tracie and I are raising money to buy one (1) month of advertising on a billboard that stands across the road from the newly erected Confederate Memorial of the Wind (see below), a monument built by the Sons of Confederate Veterans on Martin Luther King, Jr. Dr. in Orange, Texas along Interstate 10.

In observance of Martin Luther King Day (January 21, 2019) and African American History Month (February) , the billboard will look down on the memorial, which (as of this posting) includes the Robert E. Lee battle flag, otherwise known as “the Confederate Flag.”

CLICK HERE TO DONATE.

Artwork for the billboard (above) was created pro bono by an anonymous designer.

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My parents were both born in 1933 in South Bend, Indiana. They were the children of Jewish refugees who had fled Eastern Europe in the first decade of the last century, before the Russian Revolution. Both were raised as conservative Jews. After they finished college in their home state, they moved to Chicago, Illinois where they reared their four sons as conservative, progressive Jews. Although not observant at home, they regularly attended a typical midwest conservative synagogue, not unlike the typical midwest shul in Pittsburgh where a mass shooting occurred on Saturday.

A work trip took me to Pittsburgh a month ago. On a beautiful Saturday morning, the city’s “strip” — its main drag just off of downtown — was bustling with Steelers fans and food lovers. People were friendly there, the nightlife was welcoming and fun, and the city’s now abandoned factories were oddly and boldly beautiful set against the natural majesty of its rivers and hills. Folks were lined up around the block at the Heinz History Center, a Smithsonian outpost, for a new space exploration exhibit. Time didn’t permit a visit to the Anyd Warhol museum.

It’s hard to believe that the City of Bridges, as it’s known, would also be home to such virulent racism. But it is. And sadly, it’s no different than anywhere else in America.

When I see the photos of those who died in Saturday’s attack, I see faces that I recognize from my own upbringing. I see faces that I recognize from our neighborhood bagel shop and the Jewish Community Center a few blocks from our house (where our daughters often attend birthday parties). I see the congregants of the orthodox shul next to my gym. I see my aunts, my uncles, my cousins, my grandparents… I see myself and I see our children.

Even in my wildest imagination, I never thought that a day like this would arrive in America. But it has.

Today I weep for my fallen sisters and brothers, their families, their community. Today I weep for my country.

Happy new year, everyone!

Today is the first day of the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah.

Like every year, Parzen family ate apples and honey before dinner last night, a new year tradition meant to deliver sweetness in the year ahead.

Here in Houston, we’ve already settled into our fall rhythms and routines.

Lila Jane is now in kindergarten and is taking cello (my instrument as a kid!) at their music magnet school.

And first-grader Georgia is playing her violin with growing confidence and ability.

They both love their school and their teachers.

With both girls now in school full-time, Tracie is working hard to expand her business and we’re finally moving toward being a two-income family, which is great.

Our lives are filled with too many blessings to count. But the year ahead also holds many challenges.

Rosh Hashanah is a time to look back on the year past and reflect on those times that we didn’t live up to our ideals — spiritual or secular.

I keep thinking about something that Susan Sontag wrote about the French philosopher and activist Simone Weil. Sontag described her as someone “identical with her ideas.”

My new year’s resolution, for the year 5779, is to work harder to make our lives and our life’s work identical with our ideas. In these times, I believe, we mustn’t fail in standing up for what is right and speaking out against what is wrong. Otherwise, we will be failing our children in making this world a better one for them to live in when we’re gone.

Happy new year, everyone. May your year be filled with good health and sweetness. L’shanah tovah, yall!