Hat tip to Pearlies of Wisdom.

Aw, man, I am so jealous: J. Weekly staff scribe extraordinaire Joe Eskenazi got to sit down punim-to-punim with ADL director Abraham Foxman a coupla weeks back. If I were still working there, I’d have had him sign my copy of the AP Style book.

Eskenazi gives Foxman a platform to defend himself against that sh*tty NY Times profile of him, which branded him as a pinky-ring wielding, “one-man Sanhedrin” psycho. In spite of being accused of “stifling free speech,” Foxman continues to uphold his dogged (okay, slightly rabid) quest to root out anti-Semitism in all its forms, even if he has to take a few insults to the gut.

(And just so ya know, he wears his wedding ring on his pinky because he put on some weight after the chuppah, but wanted to keep the same ring he exchanged with his wife, Golda, so many years ago. See? Such a teddy bear, a romantic even, that Abey.)

He’s quick to point out that no matter how annoying you might think he is, he’s not the bad guy. If you think he’s too overzealous with the “AS” word, how would you like the job of confronting Mel Gibson, Jimmy Carter and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad? Even though you and I know differently, much of the world still thinks that some magical cabal of Jewish Lex Luthers controls it, and
Abe Foxman has spent decades fighting such dangerous superstitions. You don’t think he’d rather retire and lounge on a beach in Boca with Golda? But he can’t, ’cause a superhero’s work is never done. (Did ya hear the Ku Klux Klan is back?)

“To say the world is under the control of the Jewish lobby, or the universities, or that the Jewish community controls what goes on on college campuses — if it wasn’t so serious, it’d be really funny,” he said.

At least he’s keeping his sense of humor.

Aaah, don’t you love it when daylight savings kicks in (or has it just ended? I’ll be forever confused about such matters; I grew up in Arizona, the only state in the continental U.S. that doesn’t need another hour of sunlight.)

I’ve got a whole extra hour that I could spend blogging, and should spend folding laundry, but I think I’ll take the time to nurture my latest hobby: Roller blading. Yes, it’s a fairly insane undertaking for a 35 year-old woman with expensive orthodontia, but I find trying new things during difficult times can lift the spirits. I bought a pair of cheapo skates for twenty bucks at Target this week, and by golly, if wind through the hair doesn’t work charms. I’m wearing my helmet, Mom, promise.

Hope you’re spending your extra suntime doing something you love. I’m off to wobble through the neighborhood, a smile on my face, my only care not to kiss pavement and knock out my newly repaired front tooth.

Shabbat Shalom on wheels! Wheee!

I was all prepared to catch y’all up on some terrific stories, like Benyamin Cohen’s surreal profile of Atlanta’s African Hebrew Israelites in American Jewish Life and how those crazy kids at Brandeis University are exploring the origin of punk rock and Judaism, but you’re just gonna have to do for yourselves today, ’cause I got bigger problems:

I bit into a piece of popcorn last night and my front f*ckin’ tooth flew off.

Those sweet readers who have been with me from my meager beginnings may recall that I had the veneers on my front four teeth replaced a little over two years ago at a thousand bucks a tooth. It was not a fun process. While I wiled away many hours in the vinyl dentist’s recliner, listening to lite rock (what sadistic radio exec is responsible for the immortality of “Dust in the Wind”?) in between the neuron-jangling whir of the drill, I took solace in the knowledge that I wouldn’t have to do this again for at least a decade, since my previous caps lasted 15 years. Ha! @#$$@$!!!

Somehow, I don’t think dentists have warranties on their work. Even if they did, I’d have to fly back to California to the same inept mouth torturer who’s responsible for the gaping hole in my piehole.

So I’ll be spending the morning seeking out a talented new dentist (Jewish, of course) in Savannah who can match up the broken parts of my mouth. Aren’ja glad this isn’t a video blog?

Have I mentioned El Yenta Man is currently unemployed, and therefore uninsured?

There is, however, a silver lining: With a missing front tooth, I’m fitting right in with the locals. Come to think of it, if I went with a gold replacement with a CZ, I’d be Queen of the South.

Update: Humpty Dumpty’s smile has been put back together again, thanks to the kind and gentle Dr. Scott Cohen. It only hurt a lil’ bit. But my corn-on-the-cob days are probably over forever.

Something has shifted in the air, can you tell? The birds are chasing each other around frantically blooming trees, El Yenta Man has been grabbing my a** more than usual, the children have so much shpilkiss (“ants in the pants”) that their hair is vibrating. Yes, it’s definitely almost spring!

That means Spring Break, that infamous week in American college life that inspires students travel to exotic places, drink vats of cheap beer and flash their boobies. (Not that I know anything about it, mostly because I do not remember Mazatlàn 199o.)

But not all co-eds have chosen to spend their time licking tequila off each other’s necks: 205 Jewish mensches have signed up with the Jewish National Fund for an Alternative Spring Break to help rebuild northern Israel after last year’s destruction. The kids will prune forests, paint bomb shelters and listen to the stories of those who suffered through the bombings.

If you’re thinking you’d rather watch generous, selfless college students plant trees instead of the same old boring Spring Break coverage of leopard bikinis and beer bong competitions, you’re in luck: The group will be trailed by MTV — yes, MTV, the channel that introduced the world to live coverage from Daytona Beach’s wild madness — and feature the JNF volunteers as part of a 30 minute special on students who spend their vacation pursuing noble activities on March 24 (check the listings.)

Sure, there’ll be wet t-shirts — soaked with hard-earned sweat.

Saturday Night Live conveniently recuts Smelly Mel’s cinematic bloodfest into something digestible and entertaining.

I didn’t see the original, since I won’t give another penny to anything Gibson’s associated with (and yes, I have shredded my Lethal Weapon 2 movie poster, even though I loved that movie — remember the badass South African villains?) but I’ve heard it has something to do with an advanced civilization destroying itself. Still making metaphoric wishes from rehab, eh Mel?

Props to Pepe Pringos for the link!