THE SEVEN FISHES

 

When I was a kid growing up in Fort Lee, N. J., we kept an Italian-Sicilian-American household. By that I mean we were thoroughly Americanized, but we also observed many of the old European traditions. And of these none were more treasured and eagerly anticipated by my sister, brother, and I than Christmas Eve. It was an evening filled with food, laughter, light, and love. For today’s column, I’d like to focus on the food because through it the others will be revealed.

It has become widely known that many Italians, particularly those Southern Italians, serve a meal consisting solely of seafood on Christmas Eve. The tradition of “The Feast of the Seven Fishes” as it came to be known here, was popularized during the time the so-called Mediterranean Diet also became “A Thing” in American pop culture. At our place, we simply called it “eating.” But The Seven Fishes as a prescribed number and type of seafood served is really an American adaption of Southern Italian families simply consuming a fish dinner, i.e. sans meat on the Eve. In Sicily it is known as “La Vigilia” or “keeping a vigil” for the impending birth of Jesus and is an extension of the Pascal tradition of abstaining from eating meat at certain times. The “Seven Fishes” label came with American consumerism.

At our home, there was no fixed number associated with what we would eat that evening. However, one thing was certain; it would be a REAL feast. My mother would shop for days to get only the freshest seafood. Then she would spend the entire day preparing the meal. We may have had seven fish dishes, or it may have been a little less, but it was always DELICIOUS! No matter what the actual number it turned out to be, the meal always contained these classics: calamari - fried/sauteed, mussels – fra diavolo, shrimp -raw/scampi/breaded, filet of sole – Francese style, clams – oreganato/with linguine and, of course, my mother’s favorite, Bacala, a.k.a salted cod.

The house smelled like heaven for hours!

As I got older, our place was also the hottest ticket in town for friends lucky enough to get an invite. One who took particular pleasure in that invitation is a dear friend from my college days (I’ll protect his privacy and only use his first name). Jed and I were teammates on our particularly bad football team. However, he was an exceptionally good player on that otherwise terrible squad. And he was big – defensive lineman big – about 6’3” and 265 lbs. He could eat like it, too! Jed was also Jewish, so eating our place was a new, delightful cultural experience for him. Plus, the food was always great. I remember him dropping subtle hints weeks before the Eve just to see if there might be any room for him at our table. Of course, there always was. Even 40+ years later and living thousands of miles apart, we still speak of it. This is really the true spirit of the season. The food just pulled it all together.

After dallying over our fabulous meal, it was time to retire to the fake silver Christmas tree that graced our living room. Despite our protestations for a real tree, my mother refused saying they were too “messy”. So, at Christmas we took it out of the box in the cellar and assembled it in the same corner every year. Underneath, the neatly wrapped packages would soon be ravaged by my sister, brother, and I. You see, we simply couldn’t contain our excitement until Christmas DAY. THAT was not possible, especially for my sister Joanne. I think my brother Joseph and I may have been possibly convinced to wait until the morning, but our sister proved an irresistible force. And, what the heck, why not? Our parents were certainly not going to protest. It was a rare night for our version of indulgence.

It didn’t take long to open our presents as gift-giving was always very modest at our place. We received one gift each from our parents, one from our grandmothers (usually socks and underwear), and often one from our mother’s sister, Anna Maria. When we were old and able enough, we also exchanged some simple gifts as siblings. I often marveled at how extravagant other families were at the Holidays but that was not our way. For us, the greatest gift was always our togetherness.

After the frenzy, most of our energy was spent and more often than not, we simply went off to bed to dream of our new bounty waiting for us in the morning. These memories hopefully can never be erased. This year we’ll be having dinner together with my aunt and a few cousins at a fine restaurant in Brooklyn. Now we let others do the cooking. We’ll just make the memories.

Happy Holidays, everyone! No matter which one you choose to celebrate, I sincerely hope that it is spent in the warm glow of family and friends. And I hope you eat lots of fish on Christmas Eve too.

WHEN GOOD PEOPLE DO NOTHING.

 

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.

President John F. Kennedy used this quote in a speech he made in 1961. Often incorrectly attributed to the philosopher Edmund Burke, one thing is certain; there can be no misinterpretation of its meaning. It is both powerful and sobering.

It is for this reason I changed the theme of my column today. Since it is the Holiday season, I had intended to write a light-hearted story about keeping the Christmas Eve tradition of “The Feast of the Seven Fishes.” However, the more I thought about the current situation in this Country, I could no longer do so in good conscience. Although humor and diversion are essential to living well, especially at this frenetic time of year and I have already written extensively on the subject, I could no longer look past the evil staring at me directly in my face.

The more I think about the trajectory the Trump Administration is leading us in, the more I associate it with a quote we got from a doctor when my aging mother was approaching the end of her long life. In a consultation with my sister as to what our next steps might be in my mother’s care, she said, “I must be totally clear with you right from the beginning. This is not a situation of things might get worse before they get better. They are simply going to get worse.” And we knew exactly what she meant.

So it is the case with America today. It is simply going to get worse. There is no quick remedy or easy fix. We are being led by an increasingly unhinged megalomaniac who has found himself where he always dreamt he could be, i.e., running the world’s greatest grift. And even more disturbing are the sycophants who surround, support, and even worship him.

The list of Donald J. Trump’s egregious, vile, inept, and incompetent behavior was apparent to me from the very beginning of his life in the political arena. But the most terrifying aspect of all of this is that he is getting even worse! He could never speak well and now he babbles. He makes up words that do not exist and uses others completely out of context. He falls asleep in meetings. He spews false statistics to make his points and is rarely challenged on their veracity. Trump has been completely disrespectful to the Press Corp, particularly to women reporters who have the audacity to do their jobs and challenge him on his plethora of false statements and accusations.

Of course, I could go and include things like: the release of the Epstein files, the destruction of the south wing of the White House, the brutal crackdown on the immigrant community, the loss of health care and food benefits to the most needy, his plethora of poorly qualified Cabinet choices, the abandonment of Ukraine and our European Allies, blatantly racist statements,  the Trump gold sneakers and credit cards, etc.

However, perhaps the most concerning of all these transgressions is the Administration’s continued actions against Venezuela. Under the guise of stopping the flow of fentanyl into the U.S., for weeks now President Trump has ordered a huge military build-up in the Caribbean. He has also stepped-up attacks on alleged drug smuggling boats, obliterating them and their crews. Many, even in military circles, see this as wanton murder. And what is particularly disturbing is that fentanyl is not even produced or moved through Venezuela! It is all part of this Administration’ s galling hypocrisy.

Then, just to exacerbate the situation, we were treated to dramatic video of US Special Forces repelling down from helicopters to board and seize a huge Venezuelan tanker ship. Of course, this action was another effort to stop the drug trade. But wait! No drugs of any kind were found. The huge ship was not loaded with fentanyl but oil. Gee, what a coincidence. An oil tanker found off the coast of a country with largest oil deposits in the world? How odd.

Come on people. We know what this is about. It is about oil and the money that can come from it, enough to line the pockets of the World’s Greatest Grifter and his cronies. Mr. Trump likes to attach that term, Greatest, to everything he associates about himself. Well, let him wear that title too. He sure has earned it.

Perhaps one day I will write that story about the “fishes”. But now it is more important that we stay focused on what is happening to OUR Country right before our very eyes. Although it’s hard, we cannot look away hoping that things will get better. WE must make them better. Remember, we got here because SO many people did not participate in the last Presidential election. Now we live with the consequences. Do not let it happen again. Stay active. Be involved. Vote. Evil triumphs when good men do nothing.

 

 

 

SHORT ARMS

 

“Your Arms Too Short to Box with God” was a musical based on the Biblical Book of Matthew. It originally ran on Broadway for just about 2 years (December 1976 – January 1978), totaling 429 performances. During a 1982 revival of the show, Al Green and Patti LaBelle appeared in leading roles.

Now, I’m not professing that I know a lot about this musical. To be totally transparent, I’ve never even seen it nor am I familiar with any of the tunes from it. But the title always inspired me, and I use it quite often metaphorically.

Those who may be familiar with my writing would know that I am not traditionally religious. Although born, raised, and well-indoctrinated as a Catholic, I have not subscribed to any formal religious practice in very many years. However, I do consider myself to be a spiritual person and approach life with a high degree of inner consciousness. So, within that framework, that show title has always taken on an extremely specific and important meaning to me.

Life is full. And by that, I mean if we’re lucky we get to experience it in all its “vastness.” A full life not only includes great joy but devastating sorrow as well. And they are often closely associated with one another. A perfect example of this is owning a pet. Most of us have been blessed with the companionship of an animal. I know that I have. But those of us who have experienced this special relationship know that our physical time together is limited. And the loss of a pet can be as painful as losing a sibling. But we cannot have one without the other. We can’t know their joy without feeling the sting of their loss too. This is the Yin and Yang of life.

Still, we look for answers as to “why” things happen. We need to understand on a rational level in the hope that if we do, the pain will ease. This most often is the case when tragedy strikes and there is no logic that our minds can hold onto to give us some sort of explanation that will provide some level of comfort. In these cases, there is no real “why”, there only “is.”

That’s when “Your Arms Too Short to Box with God” comes in. For me, it means to let go of things that you are not meant to understand but must come to accept. You can rage, cry, and spit but that cannot change the outcome. Only acceptance will provide inner peace. The universe and everything that happens within and beyond is far too vast to truly comprehend on a level only meant for the “gods.” As we exist today, our arms are far too short. Perhaps, in time and with lots of practice, we can reach that “god-like” level.

This notion of reaching enlightenment as it can most accurately be described, can be found in most religions, particularly those from the East. However, one needn’t be religious in a formal sense to understand and eventually accept this concept. Our lives become fuller, richer, easier when we learn that we cannot control everything. Nor can we fully understand why certain things happen that defy logical or explanation.  As much as we struggle to find the answer, there is peace in letting go. Why? Because your arms too short to box with God.