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April 9, 2014

Jonathan Tobin: Why Did Kerry Lie About Israeli Blame?

Samuel G. Freedman: A resolution 70 years later for a father's unsettling legacy of ashes from Dachau

Jessica Ivins: A resolution 70 years later for a father's unsettling legacy of ashes from Dachau

Kim Giles: Asking for help is not weakness

Kathy Kristof and Barbara Hoch Marcus: 7 Great Growth Israeli Stocks

Matthew Mientka: How Beans, Peas, And Chickpeas Cleanse Bad Cholesterol and Lowers Risk of Heart Disease

Sabrina Bachai: 5 At-Home Treatments For Headaches

The Kosher Gourmet by Daniel Neman Have yourself a matzo ball: The secrets bubby never told you and recipes she could have never imagined

April 8, 2014

Lori Nawyn: At Your Wit's End and Back: Finding Peace

Susan B. Garland and Rachel L. Sheedy: Strategies Married Couples Can Use to Boost Benefits

David Muhlbaum: Smart Tax Deductions Non-Itemizers Can Claim

Jill Weisenberger, M.S., R.D.N., C.D.E : Before You Lose Your Mental Edge

Dana Dovey: Coffee Drinkers Rejoice! Your Cup Of Joe Can Prevent Death From Liver Disease

Chris Weller: Electric 'Thinking Cap' Puts Your Brain Power Into High Gear

The Kosher Gourmet by Marlene Parrish A gift of hazelnuts keeps giving --- for a variety of nutty recipes: Entree, side, soup, dessert

April 4, 2014

Rabbi David Gutterman: The Word for Nothing Means Everything

Charles Krauthammer: Kerry's folly, Chapter 3

Amy Peterson: A life of love: How to build lasting relationships with your children

John Ericson: Older Women: Save Your Heart, Prevent Stroke Don't Drink Diet

John Ericson: Why 50 million Americans will still have spring allergies after taking meds

Cameron Huddleston: Best and Worst Buys of April 2014

Stacy Rapacon: Great Mutual Funds for Young Investors

Sarah Boesveld: Teacher keeps promise to mail thousands of former students letters written by their past selves

The Kosher Gourmet by Sharon Thompson Anyone can make a salad, you say. But can they make a great salad? (SECRETS, TESTED TECHNIQUES + 4 RECIPES, INCLUDING DRESSINGS)

April 2, 2014

Paul Greenberg: Death and joy in the spring

Dan Barry: Should South Carolina Jews be forced to maintain this chimney built by Germans serving the Nazis?

Mayra Bitsko: Save me! An alien took over my child's personality

Frank Clayton: Get happy: 20 scientifically proven happiness activities

Susan Scutti: It's Genetic! Obesity and the 'Carb Breakdown' Gene

Lecia Bushak: Why Hand Sanitizer May Actually Harm Your Health

Stacy Rapacon: Great Funds You Can Own for $500 or Less

Cameron Huddleston: 7 Ways to Save on Home Decor

The Kosher Gourmet by Steve Petusevsky Exploring ingredients as edible-stuffed containers (TWO RECIPES + TIPS & TECHINQUES)

Jewish World Review July 24, 2006 / 28 Tamuz, 5766

Give me that old-time music of living

By Tom Purcell


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http://www.JewishWorldReview.com | It's July and I'm longing for the sounds of summer I knew as a kid.


In the '60s and '70s, you see, only one or two houses in our neighborhood had air conditioning. Most neighbors kept their windows open, allowing the outside sounds to come in and the inside sounds to go out.


I woke every morning to the birds chirping outside my window screen, a dewy chill in the air. I'd smell the Big Guy's pipe, which he smoked while he read the paper. I'd go downstairs to greet him. Sometimes he'd make scrambled eggs and toast smattered with butter, and we'd eat while the birds kept on singing.


The evening sounds were equally powerful: a dog barking; a motorcycle downshifting on some faraway hill; people out on their porches listening to the Pirates' play on the radio; a baby crying; a couple talking; children laughing; a window fan humming.


Sounds carry far in the summer air. One family on the hill — they had three adult kids still living at home — entertained the whole neighborhood with their cussing and bickering:


"You're an idiot!" one would shout.


"No, you're an idiot!" said another.


"Shut up the both of youse!" the old man would yell. He told our next-door neighbor once he couldn't understand why his "damn kids cussed so damn much, the idiots."


The sounds I miss the most, though, were the shouts and chants and bells that families relied on to call their kids home for supper.


In those days, kids didn't participate in one adult-run activity after another. We didn't sit inside air-conditioned homes playing video games. No, we were out in the hills roaming and exploring and creating all day long.


We collected scrap wood and built shacks. We damned up the creek and caught minnows and crayfish. One summer, we built a motorized go-cart with some scrap items from a junked riding mower and a couple of two-by-fours. It was one of the great engineering feats in my neighborhood's history.


Occasionally, we'd fib to our mothers and ride our bikes 20 miles farther than we said we would. Or we'd pluck some baby pears off a tree by Horning Road and whip them at cars. Every now and then, a car would screech to a stop, and we'd sprint through a creek aqueduct that ran 200 feet beneath the neighborhood.


There was only one major rule a kid had to abide by: You'd better be home in time for supper.


Every kid had a unique sound to call him home. The Big Guy went with a deep, booming, "Tom, dinner! Tom, dinner!" I could hear him a mile away or more.


When moms did the calling, they always used full names. They always sang, too, as my Aunt Jane did: "Miiikkkeeelll, Keeevvviiinnn, suuupppeeerrrr!"


The Givens boys, up on the hill across the railroad tracks, were called in by a large bell. The clanging sounded off at 6 every night, giving us the sense that a riverboat was making its way up the Mississippi or a chow wagon was calling in the cowhands for some grub.


One family used a riot horn. The piercing "hrmmmppphhh!" could be heard for miles. There was no way that kid, attempting to explain why he was late for supper, could claim he didn't hear it.


These mystical summer sounds have been gone a long time now. We need to bring them back.


At least one month every summer, why don't we cease every structured activity, cancel every tournament and end every adult-run event. Let's turn off the television and computer. Let's shut down the air conditioner and unshutter the windows and doors.


Let's allow our kids to go out into the hills to roam and play and discover all day long. This will require us to call them home at dinner.


And our shouts and chants and bells will breathe some much-needed music into the sweet summer air.

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