Sometimes I come across snippets of information about other peoples’ lives, often in the NY Times. At first I’m intrigued and want to know more, but upon further reflection I realize, nope, that’s plenty.
For example:
This was from an article about Friedrich Liechtenstein, a German performance artist who spent a year living in a stairwell as “an ornamental hermit.” He “will soon begin filming a 10-part television series about the romance of gas stations.”
But will ten parts really be enough, to fully capture the romance?
An article about life coaches focused on Tamara Mellon, “a founder of Jimmy Choo shoes and mother of Minty, 12.” “‘You get over one thing and you get slammed with something else,’ said Ms. Mellon, 47, looking slinky in a crisp white blazer, a high-slit skirt and gladiator sandals. She recalled some of her ordeals: her father’s death, two hostile takeover attempts, taking her mother to court. ‘It’s a miracle I’m still here,’ she said.”
It’s never easy to take your Mom to court, but sometimes it has to be done.
Finally, there was a piece on a Jewish work farm in Connecticut, where mostly younger Jews pay lots of money to live in things called “instructional yurts” and provide products for “the boutique Jewish marketplace”, including “ethically butchered kosher meat.” These kids will also celebrate Passover in the California desert, as part of something called “Wilderness Torah.” This group went too far, when on a recent evening after dinner, they discussed how God created humanity, and whether “the dust of creation came from the four corners of the Earth.” This is impossible, because in the words of a fine Jewish woman like my mother, “THERE IS NO DUST IN THIS HOUSE.”
