Welcome To The Kitchen

"Has anyone been listening to me?" asks Ima, the menu for all our Rosh Hashana meals on a pad of paper in front of her at the table.

"Yes, yes," says Straight Man.

"Alright," Ima smirks. "What are we having tomorrow night for dinner?"

"Umm...challah, apples, honey..."

"New fruit!" Mavis exclaims. "What are we having for our new fruit?"

"I dunno..." Ima says teasingly.

"You know...what is it?"

"It's a surprise."

Mavis flings open the fridge and pulls out something long and green.

"It's this!"

"Mavis!" cries Ima. "That's a cucumber."

.................................................

Shana tova, everyone! May you all have a meaningful yom tov with inspiring tefilla and tables surrounded by warmth, camaraderie, fun, family, and friends. May you all be written in the book of life and may your tefillos be answered.

Stepping Forward

Today we moved Straight Man into YU. As we waited for Straight Man to sign in and get his room and student ID, someone came over and put a bright red bracelet on my wrist that said, "Welcome To YU." It was the weirdest thing. I was being welcomed to YU as though I was a guest, except I was just a student in Stern three months ago.

It's bizarre to me that YC and Stern's first day of school is this Wednesday, and I won't be there. Stern was my home for the past four years - it feels like I still belong there!

Every year of our lives, we grow and develop as people. But my time at Stern was where I probably had my biggest growth spurt as a person. So many people think that sort of thing is supposed to happen during your year in Israel. There's that pressure before you go - are you going to "change?" How much are you going to "grow?"

But what does it mean to grow, anyway? I don't think you can go anywhere specifically to grow. I know in all the Israel school interviews, they ask why you're going to Israel and everyone always says, "To grow in my Judaism, to grow as a person..." But you can't plan when and where you're going to develop as a person. My most meaningful growth experiences have been the most ordinary kinds of experiences, and not meant for growth at all. They weren't in any way inspiring. Some of them were quite difficult. I was not on a high. I struggled. I listened. I observed. I learned about others and about myself. And I grew.

I know there is still a lot of growing left for me to do, but I have a feeling it will be of a different kind. Everything about Stern was a kind of dream. Now I feel as though I'm waking up into an unfamiliar place, and I have to get my bearings all over again.Yet enough of that dream has remained with me upon waking, and I will keep it close to me. I don't know where I'm headed now. It's all very much an adventure, I suppose. I just have to learn to stop looking back and concentrate only on moving forward.

But I do miss Stern already, and I can never thank anyone who has been part of that experience enough for what they have given me.

One Step Forward

It feels like the end of this year signifies a step forward for most people I know. Of my own peer group, we've graduated college. A close friend of mine just got a job. Another close friend of mine is going to have her first baby. Two good friends are getting married this month. My brother is starting YU in the fall. And my sister graduated high school today.

A huge mazel tov goes to Trademark and my cousins Tree and F1 all on their high school graduations.

Trademark graduated from my old high school and it was kind of funny to notice how not much had changed. The girls were different. Hair styles were different. One of the assistant principals was different. But...that was about it.

When Trademark wanted to take a picture with the principal afterward, the principal asked me to be in the picture, too. She wished me luck in figuring out what my next step in life will be, as though not a day had passed since I had been one of her students.

It seems a lot of people get mazel tovs this summer. So mazel tov to you all.

It also seems as though lots of people are taking one distinctive step forward in life. I wish all of you much hatzlacha in all that you will face and, knowing you guys, I know you'll all handle everything with poise, grace, firmness, seriousness, and humor (yes, all of those together). I believe that if you smile at the world, the world will smile back at you. And yet none of you are too frivolous. You take your lives seriously, but with a smile all the same. Kol hakavod and may you continue to be wonderful people and excel at life.

Three Whole Hands

Not only is it Rosh Chodesh Adar, but it is also my little brother Mavis's English birthday. These two are inherently related because Mavis has always been a rather Adar/Purimish sort of person. In fact, his Hebrew birthday is Purim. He's always been very happy, a bit of a troublemaker, and certainly in the business of making people laugh. One of my mother's favorite stories about him was when my parents took him to meet the principal of his new school for kindergarten. The principal, who already knew Straight Man as, well, a yashar sort of kid, smiled over his desk at little Mavis and said, "how old are you? Five?"
Mavis shook his head.
"No?" The principal asked. "How old are you then?"
Mavis looked up at the rabbi before him, raised up his palm - fingers spread out - and said, "I'm a whole hand."
The principal looked at my mother and said, "He's not like Straight Man, is he."
It wasn't a question.

Mavis is certainly his own breed, but we all love him for it.

He's the only sibling I really remember visiting in the hospital as a baby. I remember visiting my sister Trademark vaguely, but I remember the white powdered doughnuts Straight Man and I got to eat more than I remember actually seeing my baby sister (I actually don't remember her at all - only the doughnuts). What I remember most about visiting Mavis as a baby was how much he looked like a bobblehead doll. Straight Man, who was nearly five at the time, then proceeded to go to school and tell everyone that he had a new baby brother named Achashverosh.

It was a strange purim that year. My brother, sister, and I woke up to a house with no parents (at least, the way I remember it). Somehow we knew what had happened before we were told. I remember Straight Man and I stumbling down the stairs to our babysitter and asking in rushed, excited voices, "did they go to the hospital? Huh? Did they?" I remember exactly the blue of the stairs and the emptiness in the house that wasn't quite emptiness. It was more like hugeness. The sun was shining brightly through the window and there was snow. Lots and lots of snow. Then we got hoisted off to friends and stood around awkwardly unsure what to do with ourselves in all the excitement. At some point our father came back and someone read megillah to him in a bedroom.

(By the way Ima, I'm sorry if I got any of that badly wrong. That's how my mind tells me it went)

Two years ago, it was my brother's bar mitzvah and instead of doing the parsha on shabbos, he lained megillah on the day of his actual birthday. Then we had a costume party and it was exceedingly cool. For this year, my brother has already started practicing to lain again (he did it last year, too), so when you start hearing that in my house, you know Purim's only 'round the corner.

Anyway, happy birthday Mavis (who is now three whole hands!) and chodesh tov to all my readers! :D

The Search

Straight Man: I need to figure out where I want to spend my semester abroad.
Erachet: Um, you just had your semester abroad. It's called a year and a half in Israel.
Straight Man: Well, I want to take another one! I need to...find myself.
Ima: [Snort] What were you doing in Israel?
Straight Man: That was my spiritual self! I need to find my mental self.
Erachet: Maybe your mental self is in Queens [college]?
Straight Man: I dunno, I was just there the other day...I couldn't even find parking.

Hachi Tov Mei'Eretz Yisrael

Okay, so I'm a copycat. You know how Ezzie has best lines from shabbos? Well, while I was in Israel (with helpful prodding from the Apple after one particularly funny line before we took off that I told her about), I kept a record of (almost) all the funny lines from our trip AND I took video of fun or funny moments. And so I present to you (without, sadly, a cool box thing like on SerandEz):

Hachi Tov Mei'Eretz Yisrael

1. (Announcement over the JFK loudspeaker) Attention those waiting for the flight to London, the aircraft has been attacked by a large bird.
(We then proceed to be delayed three hours which causes us to lose our luggage in London. Stupid bird. Hmph)

2. Abba (while waiting to take off after a three hour delay in New York): Excuse me, what's going on with the delay?
Tall, lanky, male British flight attendant: I really don't know, sir. I've just come by to get an orange.

3. Trademark (my sister): I hate it when it's like two minutes to Yom Tov and Ima's like "okay, I'm lighting candles" and then we like pop out and our heads are spinning and I want a drink of water.
Erachet: *blank stare* ???

4. Mavis (my little brother): We should make Aliyah - then we can get a Mac!

5. David (my friend's Israeli husband who is meeting me for the first time): Let us know before you come next time - then I can get your chatan ready.
Erachet: Heh. Yeah, if you know anyone...
David: *seriously* Well, he's busy now but I don't think it's going anywhere, so...
Erachet: *chokes* Wait - you're talking about a real person?!?!

6. (After Mavis learns that a 'pencil' is an 'iparon' in Hebrew - his elementary school was too frum to teach him Hebrew. It's sad)
Ima: And how do you say 'pen?'
Mavis: Ummm...ipar?

And, the funniest of the funny:

(We saw this at a carnival thing at Gan Soccer on Chol Hamoed. It wasn't very religious, more cultural, but pretty amusing and fun. This is just a random guy in the audience getting a little over-excited by the music, I suppose)




P.S. Straight Man doing the pen twirl, an important skill:

Important Things

A few important things happened this week or are about to happen:

1. My first ever real best friend got married this past Thursday. I couldn't be at her wedding because it was in Israel and I couldn't exactly skip my first week of school (sadly). The weird thing is - even though we don't speak a lot because of time difference and just the different directions our lives have taken, there is still a really strong bond there. Her family made aliyah the summer after first grade - so we were both only six years old. But my earliest memories include her and her family. We've been best friends since we were a year old. That's something special. Not everyone is still in touch with their friends from that long ago. We see each other nearly every time either I go to Israel or she comes to America and our families just have a very special relationship that doesn't require constant contact in order to stay strong. In a weird way, it's almost like a long lost sister of mine has just gotten married. I know that's kind of hard to explain, but when I was looking at her wedding pictures, that's what it felt like.

2. I have three friends making aliyah on the Nefesh b'Nefesh flight tomorrow. Each of them is from a different part of my life, although they sort of overlap, too. One is a boy (I know, I know, co-ed friendship, co-ed summer camp, blah blah) I went to Moshava with for a number of summers. We're part of a very tight group of seven friends and...it's just really hard to explain us. It's sort of like a clique but in a very noncliquey way. It's like a kind of family, in a way. We've all gone our separate routes (although two of the people in this group are marrying each other later this year...), but we're all focused on ending up in Israel (actually, everyone except one other girl and myself have accomplished this already - or have definite plans to do so). I miss all of them a lot - many of them I haven't seen in ages because, well, they're in Israel. Sigh.

The second friend is a girl I went to Harova with and the third is a girl I became friends with in Stern (in Ivrit class, actually - at least one good thing came out of Ivrit at Stern!). So basically, someone from my teenage years, someone from my year in Israel, and someone from my college days (which are still going on) is making aliyah on the same flight tomorrow. So if I go to the airport to see them off, it will be something like facing various parts of my life all joining to take a powerful journey together. Except I will not be with them, which is sad for me. But mazal tov to them and much hatzlacha!

3. Mavis (my brother) started high school. This means my family is officially old - we're all high school and up!

4. Last Sunday, we saw Straight Man (my other brother) off to Israel for shana bet.

5. Trademark not only started her senior year of high school this week, but she is DRIVING.

6. A week and a half ago, I started my last year in Stern. Which is scary.

power outages, blind pigs, and bats - oh my!

So, on the subject of Gothic Novels, I had my own Catherine Morland experience on the Labor Day Weekend of 2006. I wrote about it in a journal at the time, but I would like to relay it here because it is fun and is on topic. And it's fun.

Okay.

It is titled: Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice! (And it is only very, very, very, very, very slightly edited)

This past thursday (meaning, a week from today) I finished class, packed my things, and took a two hour train ride on the NJ Transit to a place called Wassaic. I'm not sure if it was in Massachusettes or NY. Either way, it was far. Oh, and let's not forget the fact that I walked from my dorm to Grand Central Station because the subway was being annoying and not coming. Right. So I walked.

My mom and my aunt picked me up and we went to the farm where the rest of my family and cousins had been staying all week - Sweet Pea Farms. My brother and one of my cousins were going to arrive later than night because they'd been at hockey camp all week. It was a 45 minute drive from the Wassaic train station. Basically, with every minute we went further and further from civilization.

It was evening when we got to the house. There was this long drive up to the actual house itself, during which we passed a fenced in area for the horses. I couldn't see much of the animals then because it was dark. Anyway, we reached the house which, from the outside, definitely looked like a haunted house. I went inside and everyone was in the living room watching Batman Begins. But, since my cousin and sister (Trademark, if you remember) had requested it, I brought She's The Man. So Trademark, my cousin, and I all went to my parents' room to watch it. Some of my other cousins came, too, I think. In any case, a few of us were in there when we went to put the DVD into the DVD player by the TV. Upon approaching the TV, we noticed a certain home video on top of it belonging to the people from whom we were renting the house. The title of the video - Death I, Death II, Death III. I'm not joking.

We all shared looks of, 'who the HECK lives in this house???'

That night, I was on this sketchy computer in the house talking to someone. Then I went to bed, but first I decided I was thirsty. I went down to the kitchen to get a drink of water, but it was all dark down there except for the Christmas lights that the owners of the house left up in random places all over. Out the windows, it was all trees and wilderness. And I was suddenly quite scared. I mean, it was like just out of a horror movie. You know, innocent family goes to remote farm. Owners of the farm are secretly nearby and murder everyone in their sleep. Sheesh! I need to stop watching TV, I know, but still. I ran back upstairs, back to the sketchy computer, and talked to my friend some more until I finally gathered up enough courage to actually get my drink of water.

Friday morning, we had a whole debate with everyone about whether or not we should go alpine sliding or canoeing. Come on. Alpine sliding! In the end, we didn't do either but went on a hike instead. But it was a pretty heated debate, which was amusing. Every single kid wanted alpine sliding, though. I'm sad we didn't do it. Anyway, so first my dad took my brother and me to take out the garbage. Taking out the garbage was a big deal because you had to walk all the way down that long path from the house to the road where the garbages were. On the way, my dad showed us the grounds which we could now see properly, since it was daytime. We saw the horses - all three of them, and the pig (which we learned later was a pot-belly pig named Rollo who was blind because he got so fat the rolls of fat over his eyes wouldn't let him open them. I think that's really depressing), and the rooster and some chickens. And there was this little creek/brook thing with a bridge over it that kinda creaked worryingly when we walked across it. And as we walked, my brother was like, "you know the movie Chainsaw Massacre? Yeah, that happened right here." But anyway. On the road right in front of the house, there are three signs. One sign says "Sweet Pea Farm." The sign immediately next to it says "Welcome to Massachusettes." The sign immediately behind that one says "Welcome to New York." Yep, we were right on the border of two states. Literally. There was also this monument saying that there was the place General Henry Knox passed to bring artillery to George Washington in order to kick the British out of Boston. We weren't even anywhere near Boston, but that's cool anyway.

The rest of the day was sort of uneventful until we came to half an hour before Shabbat. Us kids were just sitting in the living room doing whatever when, suddenly, a big, winged, flying thing appeared out of nowhere. We all shouted, "Hey look! A bird!" My dad and my uncle went chasing it with a broom and a mop, which was quite amusing, but, alas, they lost it. My mom told us it probably disappeared as mysteriously as it came and that was that. BUT. My brother (Straight Man) made an observation I had been considering but hadn't mentioned. The way the flying thing was flapping its wings was, er, quite un-birdlike. And it was, er, very much BAT-like. Yes. So. Of course, once my brother suggested that out loud, my sister freaked. But it was okay, because the bat-bird-flying thing did not reappear that night.

The next morning was quite like any morning in a haunted house in The Middle of Nowhere, Berkshires, USA, The World. The weather forecast was for rain, but it was quite a nice day in the end. Sort of. It was windy, but there was no rain. And it wasn't even VERY windy. Just windy. Well, right around noontime - before we started eating lunch - there was a sort of medium-sized gust of wind, and then, the power went out. All the power. In the house and in the barn (which was converted into a full court basketball court with a volleyball net in the middle. The only non-sketchy thing about the place). And, as my mom and my aunt put it, we couldn't go see if the neighbors lost power too, because THERE WERE NO NEIGHBORS. WE WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE.

However, my dad and I did go to the barn, I forget why, and we noticed that the circuits in the barn were all on. Meaning that wasn't the problem. But while we were walking along the grounds, I pointed out to my dad quite an interesting thing the people who normally live there built. They took a very large tree branch and tied it to another large tree branch and put both of those in between two big tree trunks so that it looked just like a huge cross. I was like, "they definitely crucify the people who come to stay here." It was an odd thing to have on their grounds, to say the least.

Anyway, back to the power-outage, we were all a bit nervous for what would happen later, when it got dark out and it would be PITCH BLACK. And it was Shabbat, so we couldn't even use flashlights! And there was talk about leaving the next day if the power didn't come back. But anyway, we ate lunch. About two hours later, we were still sitting around the table in the dining room and there was another medium-sized gust of wind. My dad was like, "heh, I bet, if we count to ten, the power will come back. Ready?" And he counted to ten, as a joke of course. About two minutes later, literally, the power came back. We all went, *blink* and then we started laughing. It was just odd. Creepy.

Not long later, guess who decided to show up! Our good friend, BAT-BIRD-FLYING THING! My dad and my uncle went after it again and, somehow, it got caught in my brother and my cousin's room in between the window and the window screen. So, it was sorta trapped in there and we all got a real good look at it. It was most definitely a bat. It was actually kind of cool. I've never been that close to a bat before. We could see all the details. It was awesome. My littlest cousin was crying for a bit, though, because she was scared.

A bit later, this girl named Lily who comes to take care of the animals came to the house and took the bat out by carrying it in a towel. As she released it into a bush, she mentioned the nice teeth the bat had. "My, Batman, what big teeth you have!" "The better to make you a vampire with!"

On Sunday, we went to the Columbia County Fair. It was kinda fun. My sister and I got to shoot a bow and arrow and I actually hit a balloon! Granted, it was a total accident because I had not been aiming for that particular balloon, but still! I got a ribbon!

And there was a ride called "Haunted Pirate Ride." It looked pretty frightening from the outside, but I thought, come on, how scary could it be? I wasn't scared at all. I was all, "bring on the scary pirates! Arrr!"

My dad and I got on the ride (no one else was brave enough to join us). We went through the curtain into not-quite-pitch blackness. And, er, that was about it. It was about thirty seconds in the dark, no scary images or anything anywhere, and every few seconds there was a loud buzzer sound.

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SCARY GHOST PIRATES?

Anyway, needless to say, that was a sad, sad disappointment. I still can't believe that was even a ride. Sheesh. THERE WAS NOTHING IN THERE. Like, go into your room, turn off the light for thirty seconds, and every ten seconds or so make a loud buzzer sound. THAT WAS IT. Gosh. How did that even have anything at all to do with pirates? Or ghosts? Or anything besides buzzers??? The ride should have been called "Thirty Seconds in the Dark with Loud Buzzers"

Ahem. Anyway. The rest of the fair was okay. I refused to play any of those games where you pay to not win that stuffed animal that you could buy from a toy store for cheaper than you spent trying to play the game over and over and over. But, finally, I did play one game - and won! So I got this really cute stuffed moon with a cow jumping over it. Yay for winning! And I went on the Swings ride, which I LOVE. So yay for that, too.

Monday was the day we left. FINALLY. Goodbye to the haunted house! It was also the day we finally noticed the name on the mailbox in front of the farm. The family's name was Adams. So, of course, everyone was like, "omg! So THAT'S why the house was haunted! It belongs to the Adams family!" Ha ha, quite funny. And we took a picture with the pig.

Before we left, we went to the Norman Rockwell Museum. I love his artwork. It's amazing. So yeah, that was awesome.

And that is all. The moral y'all can take home with you is, uh...don't stay on Sweet Pea Farms?

Oh, and the house is for sale, if any of you want it. Really! It is! Goodness knows why.

THE END.

Daf Yummies

Mavis invented a concept called "Daf Yummies." I assume it's a kind of candy. I think these should really exist.

Straight Man invented a concept called "TGIK" which stands for "Thank God It's Kosher" and is a chain of restaurants in random places where you would not think of finding kosher food. These should really exist, too.

Chag sameach everyone!

Little Fish of Horrors

Okay, before I start this entry, I would like to give nicknames to my siblings so that y'all can know (sort of) who I'm talking about - sort of like characters in a story! And also, everyone else seems to be doing this and it seems like fun. :) So here they are:

Straight Man - brother, 18 years old, studying in Israel
Trademark - sister, 16 years old, in eleventh grade
Mavis - brother, 13 years old, in eighth grade

And that's everyone! Well, besides me, of course :) And my parents.

Anyway.

So Straight Man (hee, now I can stop saying things like "my brother" "my sister" "my other brother" - okay, on with the story). Yes, so, a few years ago, Straight Man decided he liked fish. And finally, last summer, while we were in the Berkshires, we went to a fair and he actually won a goldfish. This was exciting for him, because it meant he could now get MORE fish and then get a whole fish tank and put it in his room and be very happy. It was a small goldfish and, to be honest, most of us were skeptical that it would last the rest of the trip, let alone make it home all in one piece. But, to my brother's delight, the fish did make it home. It even survived the long car ride back. So it wasn't long before Straight Man got a tank and a few more fish, one of which was a Beta fighter fish.

Now, something that I knew about Beta fighter fish (I shall have to write a post about Shammai and Hillel the Beta fish another time) but that Straight Man didn't know is that male fighter fish eat other fish. They have to have their own fish bowl. But, as Straight Man only had one tank, in it went with all the other fish.

And, one by one, the smaller fish started disappearing. They wouldn't just die. They'd be gone. It was clear to all of us what was going on. The Beta fish was eating the other fish!

Soon, all who were left were the Beta fish and the little goldfish from the Berkshires. I think Mavis might have given him a name, but I'm going to give him a second name - Cicero. Cicero, as you may or may not know, was an Orator from Roman times (I think. At least, I read his stuff in Latin class) and he gave great, somewhat pompous speeches. Well, this little goldfish from the Berkshires soon became a big goldfish who was the dominant fish in a tank with a fighter fish! How did this happen, you ask? Well, it happened one dark, stormy night, when zombies and goblins were roaming the streets, and SUDDENLY....er, yeah, I have no idea. But somehow, it did. It grew and grew and grew and grew into a giant goldfish and now it swims in front of the tank, especially when one of us in there, pacing back and forth and back and forth, its mouth opening and closing and opening and closing and it really looks like it's giving some sort of aggitated, grand speech! Therefore, his name is now Cicero. At least, it is on this blog.

So, one day, the fighter fish died. That meant that Cicero was the only one left in the tank. And we decided he was lonely. Here he was, this huge fish, always trying to speak to us, it seemed, and we figured that if it had some other fish to make grand speeches to, it would be happier.

Meanwhile, Straight Man left for Israel and my sister and I decided that we were going to be the ones to get new fish. So, this past Friday (yes, erev Yom Kippur - this was how important it was to us!), we went to the pet store and got one goldfish, two little fish that were clear with a pink highlight at the top, and one swordfish (a small, freshwater one, not the kind you're thinking of from the ocean). Now, two days later, the small goldfish and both highlighted fish are dead. Just the swordfish remains. Oh, and Cicero.

The interesting thing is that the other fish when they were alive, and the swordfish now, would hide behind things in the tank - almost as though they were afraid of Cicero! My dad suspected Cicero of eating the smaller goldfish when we couldn't find it yesterday, but last night I found it floating behind something. I don't think Cicero would actually eat any of the smaller fish. But it is definitely the dominant fish in the tank. It still gives speeches, although now I think it's a bit confused as to why there are other fish (well, one other fish, at this point). One major problem, though, is that since it's so big, it gets all the food. It's ALWAYS hungry. And I mean ALWAYS. And it just keeps growing. I feel bad for the swordfish! It's going to have to learn to be more assertive.

I think we just need to get some bigger fish.

The End of an Era

My brother asked me to write a post about his championship hockey game, so here goes. First of all, here's Mochassid's take on it.

My brother has been playing hockey for a while now, first starting a team in his elementary school when in eight grade, and then moving on to join the hockey team in his high school in ninth. He won two championships while on the team, getting MVP in tenth grade, and has served as team captain both in tenth grade and this year (twelfth), as well as this year being assistant coach to the J.V. team. Sadly, I have not been able to attend most of his games due to either being in school or having way, way too much schoolwork to do, and the one other game I did attend, being at Haftr where there is absolutely nowhere to watch the game, I couldn't see a thing and my sister and I ended up going out for ice cream in the middle. I always did regret being somewhat out of the hockey loop, though, especially since the rest of my family (besides perhaps my sister) was so into it. I happen to love hockey, as well, and always wished there was some way I could play. In high school I helped start hockey intramural teams but it didn't really go anywhere.

In any case, back to my brother. Even though I hardly went to any games, I could tell that being part of the hockey team was good for him. He got a chance to be part of a great group of boys who became household names in our house and, though he is somewhat reserved and mild-tempered, he makes a great leader and was able to develop those skills by being team captain both in J.V. and Varsity. I hear the J.V. kids this year liked him a lot as their assistant coach, too. All in all, it was a good experience for him, which was obvious even to me, who didn't see him much in action.

I also always appreciated how he was so well-behaved during a game. I hardly ever heard stories of him getting penalties or getting into fights with any other boys on the other teams. At the championship game last week, he got two penalties which he said were more penalties than he had gotten all season. That says something about his character.

Although his team lost in this year's championship, they lost with dignity. They played a great game, especially my brother who got the only goal (with a beautiful assist from MG. It was really an amazing play - clean, neat, both boys knew what they were doing, it wasn't one of those dinky goals that can sometimes happen). Besides for my brother's two penalties (which I think happened because he really, really, really wanted to win this, his last championship game in high school ever), the team (both teams, actually) played a very clean game, which was indicative of the decency of all the boys, and great coaching for them by L. And even though they lost, it was a very exciting game. I had to stand on a chair the entire time so I could actually see what was going on (since I'm kind of short and next to me there was a huge mob of boys wearing green paint on their faces and spraying green silly-string everywhere which smelled awful and kept getting in my hair).

I think that sometimes it is good to lose. It's always nice to win, but losing can sometimes put things into perspective. Hockey is fun and being part of a team is a great thing, but it is not the be all and end all. There is life after hockey. My brother had a great career on his high school hockey team, but now he is getting ready to move on to bigger things. I wish him much luck with that and with anything else he comes across in the future.