Author Archives: Zachary Klein

DISPROPORTION

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Definition:

1. lack of proportion or equality
2. an instance of disparity or inequality

VB

1. to cause to become exaggerated or unequal

English Collins Dictionary – English Definition & Thesaurus

It is with a heavy heart that I once again feel compelled to write about the Israeli and Palestinian conflict. Heavy because as I lay fingers to keyboard, The New York Times is reporting: After a meeting with President Shimon Peres, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said the Israeli Army was “continuing to hit Hamas hard and is ready to expand the operation into Gaza.”

Heavy because my gut tells me that if Israel does invade Gaza, we are going to see a mass of civilians—women and children included, of course–defined as “collateral damage.” We’ve been here before.

In no way do I condone the missiles Hamas has been firing. I believe it’s legitimate for Israel to stop them, no matter who fired the first shot. My sadness has to do with how the Israeli government is choosing to stop them.

Newspapers have reported about the “pinpoint” bombing that killed a high ranking Hamas official, and even with this “pinpoint” strike, there were a couple of dozen Palestinian civilian casualties as well as three Israeli deaths. The last Israeli invasion of Gaza “left thirteen Israelis and more than one thousand Palestinians dead, hundreds among them civilians” (THE BOSTON GLOBE 11/17/12). Does anyone else see a problem with this picture?

My heart is heavy because comparing the body counts underscores my political opinions. I believe the ongoing disproportionate amount of deaths between Palestinians and Israelis leaves little room for Israeli apologists.

This disproportion is not new. In April 2011 I wrote a post calling for a regime change in Israel (http://zacharykleinonline.com/2011/04/ second entry down) I listed the following facts:

Since September 29th, 2000 to the present, 124 Israeli children have been killed. The number of Palestinian children killed during the same time period–1,452.
Since September 29th, 2000 to the present, 1,084 Israeli adults have been killed. The number of Palestinian adults during the same period–6,430.
Since September 29th, 2000 to the present, 9,226 Israelis have been injured. The number of Palestinians injured during the same period–45,041.
The current number of Israeli political prisoners or detainees is 1. The current number of Palestinian political prisoners or detainees is 5,935.
Since 1967 the number of Israeli homes that have been demolished for settlement reasons is 0.
Since 1967 the number of Palestinian homes demolished for settlement reasons—24,813.
Of the 40 towns in Israel with the highest unemployment rates, 36 are Arab towns.
According to the Central Bank of Israel statistics for 2003, salary averages for Arab workers in Israel (emphasis mine) were 29 percent lower than for Jewish workers.
U.S. government aid to Israel in 2009 was 8.2 million dollars of military aid per day.
U.S. government aid to Palestinians in 2009–0 dollars.
(These numbers and their primary sources can be found at http://www.ifamericansknew.org.)

That was then and perhaps the numbers are somewhat different now. However changed they might be, the disproportion will not if or when Israel invades Gaza again. This disproportion cannot be seen as defense regardless of Palestinian missile attacks. This is offense and the notion that the best defense is offense crumples in the face of dead and maimed children.

A whole lot of people have raked me for my ongoing support of the Palestinian people. Been called an anti-Semitic Jew (was also called a “self-loathing” Jew after my third Matt Jacob Novel No Saving Grace), one-sided, and blind to the acts of terror committed by Palestinians. The problem with all that is I’m not anti-Semitic or even one-sided. And I’m certainly not blind or silent about any acts of terror whatever the justification–real or imagined.

What I am is terribly, terribly sad. It rips my insides to watch a people to whom I belong, who were savaged into near extinction during World War Two, slowly but surely dehumanize another people. It tears me up to watch Israel become an apartheid state. It breaks my heart to even imagine how close Israel is creeping toward committing genocide. These are not the feelings of an anti-Semitic Jew; they are the emotions of someone watching his people change from the oppressed to the oppressor.

I used to believe in a two-state solution. Believed that had the 1967 boundaries been accepted along with internationalization of Jerusalem, peace would have been possible. I believed that had Israel legitimately dealt with Fatah or the PLO that preceded them, Hamas wouldn’t have had steady legs to stand on.

Now I believe it’s too, too late. The disproportion too, too great. Which is why my heart is heavy today for the Palestinian people, the ugly transformation that’s grabbed hold of Israel, and mostly for those who have died and those who will. Disproportionally.

History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, however, if faced with courage, need not be lived again. ~ Maya Angelou

SO YOU WANNA WRITE A BOOK? PART 1

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I’m hoping to use this post to create a regular, but intermittent, feature about writing that starts an ongoing discussion between me and any other writers/creative types–published or not–who want to jump in. (I’ve given myself permission to write whatever interests me every week which is why this won’t be a serial series but, if the response opens the door to writing issues, I’ll of course follow up.) Nothing would please me more than a back-and-forth so we can learn from each other. If you have anything you might want to say, suggest, or share, please do. Writing has always been termed “solitary,” and it is. But that doesn’t preclude confabbing about what we’ve discovered during all those secluded hours, which has the potential to enrich us all.

There are a million things to say about writing, but good writing always starts with the same two things: time and effort.

You have no idea how often people would come up to me when I did book tours for my Matt Jacob novels and say, “I have a great story, but I just don’t have time to sit down and write it.” Worse, some would suggest that they tell me their story and perhaps I could write it. I usually nodded sympathetically or politely demurred but, at the same time, thought fuggetaboutit. Wasn’t gonna happen. Not only was I not going to write their story, I knew they weren’t either.

The first thing any aspiring writer needs is a good chair and the guts to keep his or her ass stuck to it. That doesn’t mean all day, every day. But it does mean carving out a regular time to focus and think and dream. A regular time to write. This is true for pros as well as neophytes. From where my ass is parked, it’s the only way to actually learn the craft and keep it sharp. Though, if other people found other ways, I’d dearly love to hear about it.

Gotta read too; it’s the key to understanding what kind of book you want to write. Although reading a variety of types of books can only enrich and help, it makes sense to eventually focus on the ways different authors work in the type of writing you’re interested in.

From an early age, I loved mysteries. Started with The Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew, which, of course, evolved as I grew older. And while I enjoyed what is often termed “literary” fiction, Updike’s Rabbit, Malamud’s depressing take on the world, the comedic genius of Heller’s Catch 22, for example, I kept returning to mysteries, honing in on the “hard-boiled” version of detective fiction.

So, when I decided to leave counseling to try my hand at writing, I already knew what I wanted to do. I understood the parameters of detective fiction well enough to try to push its boundaries, while still maintaining the basic form. Kinda like grammar; you have to know the rules well to break them artfully. When I began writing, I also stopped reading all mysteries because I was terrified of unconsciously plagiarizing. And, I’ve held to it. Do any of you out there do this too? And for the same reason?

A good example of someone who works differently than I do is a musician friend who asked me for feedback on his manuscript. After my usual caveat of “Sure, but I have to be free to tell you what I really think without any bullshit,” I read the work. It was a fictionalized memoir that, frankly, wasn’t all that good. Its underlying premise could have made it truly interesting, but the tradecraft was weak and I thought he had missed the forest for the trees.

I line edited, noting where I thought he hit or missed the mark, where characters weren’t drawn well or their voices distinct enough. We set up a time to meet and I was pretty nervous about it. Basically, I was suggesting going back to the drawing board.

We met for hours and, much to my relief, he was eager for feedback and undaunted by the task ahead. After this meeting, he began voraciously reading many different types of memoirs while he began his rewrite–something I wouldn’t have done but no two people are the same. A few more extensive revisions over the next couple of years and the book is now in the hands of an agent. I don’t know if it will sell, but I do know the quality of his story and work is outstanding.

I started to tell his story as an example of someone who felt comfortable reading in his genre or area of writing, while trying to do it himself. But my buddy’s experience actually confirms both points I’m really making in this post. You have to commit to the project. Despite working full time, he put in the energy and effort on a regular schedule and accomplished his goal. Of course he wants it to sell (as do I), but at the least, he has completed something he is proud of and should be. Plus, he has subsequently gone on to write other stories (which his agent also accepted). He has turned himself into a wonderful writer by understanding and accepting the hard, time-consuming work it takes to create something special.

Writing starts with this commitment–and hopefully, our discussions where people relate their own experiences will too. Then, in upcoming weeks, I’ll talk in detail about various aspects of my personal approach to writing books, hoping others will chime in at those posts as well as now. Please don’t leave me talking to myself.

Meanwhile another dedicated, talented artist needs some help: A good friend of mine, Jim Ohm, an independent film maker who embodies all the qualities I mentioned above and many more, is raising money for his new film Pretend. I’ve read the script, think it’s really, really, good, and hope each of you visit his site (http://www.indiegogo.com/pretendthefilm?c=home&a=1733151) and listen to what he says about the film. Well worth the time.

Do not wait for the last judgment. It takes place every day.
Albert Camus

THE TIGERS LOST, BUT I GOT THE GIRL!

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First, I want to thank Rawrahs for covering last week and writing a damn interesting essay in a manner only he could do.  Much appreciated.  And of course, thanks for the nice things you wrote about Sue and me.

A whole lot has happened since my last post so I’m going to land on a few of the things that caught my attention and actually stayed in my head.

First, of course, was Sandy, which crushed New York and New Jersey and wreaked havoc for a swatch of about a thousand miles.  I hope none of you who read this have suffered serious losses, but my heart is with you if you have.  My friend Bruce Turkel, who I’ve mentioned before, posted a list of places to donate for any of you want to pitch in. http://turkeltalks.com/?utm_source=Listrak&utm_medium=Email&utm_term=http%3a%2f%2fwww.TurkelTalks.com&utm_campaign=How+You+Can+Help+The+Victims+of+Hurricane+Sandy.

What struck me other than Sandy’s devastating impact were the acts of kindness displayed throughout the storm.  We are a nation strongly divided along fundamental issues that play out politically, but New Jersey Governor James “Chris” Christie said, and I paraphrase, “We don’t need no steenkin’ politics here.  We got an emergency!”  The caring and assistance folks have given each other, friend or stranger, speaks to something significant about our people.

Also, the Federal Government showed that it had learned from past mistakes and or incompetence (see Katrina) which re-enforces my notion that government is capable of change and has the potential for helping those in need.  People who want to castrate government really need to turn this horror into a learning experience.  Without the federal government working hand in hand with states, many more lives would have been lost or ruined with little or no chance of recovery.

And finally, it actually seems as if climate change is back on the table.

On a much more joyous note, last Sunday brought me together with many friends and family who helped celebrate Sue’s and my marriage.  It was a great night, at a great place, with great people.  Thank you.  I know the out-of-towners were staring Sandy in the face and I just want you to know how much we appreciate your chancing it.  And how much we appreciated the loving emails, letters, and Facebook comments.  It all turned the night into our finest.

On the campaign front, is it too much to ask that politicians’ ads be fact-checked before they’re aired?  After all, it takes about three minutes for people on the Internet to put out the truth after the ads have been seen.  Why can’t both state and federal election commissions do it first?  If we can’t keep astronomical money out of our politics (two billion dollars and counting, thanks Citizens United), can we at least try to control the outright lying?

I ain’t gonna hold my breath.

Despite all that’s been going on, there was still a bit of time to turn my attention to popular culture. (I Want My MTV!!!)

Tonight is the last night of Anthony Bourdain’s television show, No Reservations, on the Travel Channel.  Bourdain first made a splash with his bestselling book Kitchen Confidential, a back scene look at how restaurants–and especially their kitchens–operate.  A chef himself, Bourdain chronicled little known aspects–the sociology if you will–of the business with a keen eye and superior writing.

He brought those same skills to nine seasons of traveling around the world to famous and little known countries.  Ostensibly, his show was about the different foods in the countries or areas he visited.  It was–but also about far more.  Bourdain’s spotlight on each region extended way beyond food, digging in to the different cultures and the reasons behind them.  It was always a breath of television fresh air to listen to his script given his talent as a writer.  No Reservations will be missed.

And speaking about television fresh air, I still can’t say enough about Showtime’s Homeland, based upon the Israeli series Hatufim (English translation: Prisoners of War). I’ve written about this show before, but the second season maintains and perhaps surpasses the last.  This isn’t blood and guts tv with violence seeping out of every scene. This is an hour where the story and character interactions keep your ass on the edge of your seat with its twists, turns, and tension.  Claire Danes is simply terrific in her role as a driven, obsessed C.I.A. agent and Damian Lewis right there as a returned prisoner of war after eight years of captivity.  No surprise to me that the show, Danes, and Lewis all won Emmys because they sure as hell deserved them.  If you have Showtime and On Demand, you can watch the beginning of the series until the present.  Absolutely worth the time.

Finally, I’d like to again thank everyone for all their wonderful comments about Sue and our marriage.  We felt the love.  And I got the girl!!

“We are continually faced with great opportunities which are brilliantly disguised as unsolvable problems.” Margaret Mead

Restraints Are Made For Gnawing

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GUEST POST BY RAWRAHS: ( http://rawrahs.blogspot.com/ )

I am honored to be pinch-hitting for Zach this week. He’s off; being made an honest man by his better half. Equal in all ways. Partners in the truest sense of the word. Artists. Each in their own right. A perfectly imperfect matched set. They have always made sense. Now they are married. It’s official. Congratulations to the happy couple.

Over our twenty-plus year friendship, we’ve met only once. Zach and family live in Jamaica Plain, Boston, Massachusetts. I and mine live in an inner-ring suburb of Chicago, Crook County, Illinois. In other words, we are next-door neighbors of the twenty-first century. Our back fence has evolved over the years. From 110 baud modems to today’s broadband connection. From mail doors, .QWK and .REP packets on BBS conferences to email list-serves and instant messaging, we have shared like friends and neighbors. Good times; bad times, sickness and health, challenges and solutions. The eternal optimist and the pragmatic cynic. Teammates. Friends. Neighbors.

So much for introductions…. More background seems unnecessary and boring. If you are truly interested in more, it could probably be arranged…

I’d like to take this opportunity to talk to you about an amazing money-making opportunity… You see, I am actually of European Royalty, in exile. If you just give me your personal banking information and ATM PIN…
It’s complicated…

Actually, I’m here to share some recent, if ever-evolving, observations. That’s sort of what I do. Observe, process and share my take on stuff taking place around us. It’s a branch of the Royko School of Hard Knocks Writing combined with the Play-doh Fun Factory Extruder. My most recent epiphany, in observations of the circus of 2012 politics, is that we are currently infested with a new breed of sophisticated sociopaths. The sociopath thing isn’t particularly new; there have always been self-centered, self-serving popular populist liars in our politics. What is new is their carefully-crafted sophistication that distinguishes them from the rest of us. They presume us to need leadership, while most of us just want to get where we’re going. They’ve put themselves at the front of the line. Self-justifyingly deserving, in some way, to be recognized for their obvious, arrogant superiority.

Both sides do it? They’re equally bad? Equally to blame? Really? This is where the sophistication comes in. This is where the game is rigged to favor the new breed. Getting out front to frame the debate, define the choice; no matter what is actually relevant and important. The Goal: to confine and direct public opinion within a set of limited self-serving choices. Either/ OR? One party has excelled at the approach. To the extent that the “other side” has engaged, they’ve done so in an attempt to play a completely different game. To be fair, the acolytes of the church of conservatism’s forte has been the undoing rather than doing anything. By the record, they still don’t think they’ve undone enough. Even the things they’ve done have been done to cover for the undoing in progress. Switch, shift and shaft. They switched the narrative, shifted attention so to shaft whole new tribes of Native Americans. US!

We’ve come such a long way, in such an extremely short time-frame; rewriting the rules, to suit, as we go. Putting dollar signs on everything. Redefining value and worth to what were previously considered negatives. We’ve gone so far, so fast, that those who dare remember where we once were, and what we once had, cannot articulate or hope to correct the course we’re on. Uncharted, un-tethered; held together by innocent faith, conditioned belief, proximity and inertia. So far off-course, it is as if we’ve gone into another dimension. a parallel universe, a rabbit hole… OPPOSITE WORLD.

You can’t reconcile anything. We don’t have time for that. You will choose from what we have put on the menu. You will NOT have it your way unless your way is ours. Don’t look back at our debris trail. Don’t contemplate the path of our damage. Keep moving.
Forget yesterday, forget everything we’ve left behind, what we have lost. That’s gone forever. You have to strive to be as sophisticatedly sociopathic as is demanded to keep it going. Pause for an instant to reconcile your sense of queasiness, you will fall hopelessly behind. Driving, driven on and on, going to an ill-defined place and time we’d prefer not to visit, where the journey is life as it has been redefined and that life is the journey.

It’s nonsense. We know it. Historically, we are settlers, not wanderers or nomads. We are doers; not un-doers, we genuinely care. We remain where we were, are and always will be. Revolving and evolving. Coping with pain and loss by finding some little joy within. Despite the disorienting wobbles, stumbles, scrapes and bruises. We remain. Still doing what we can, and almost always eager to do more.

I know this to be true because I jumped off. I have a far different perspective. I see the cyclonic swirl and the clouds of dust being churned around. I also see kindred who’ve stepped away from the fray to wait things out. Knowing that the world is round and storms pass. This too shall peter out. Observe. Process. Act.

Today, tomorrow and always; push come to shove; neighbors. Seeking comfort, but not allowing comfort to be externally defined dis-comfortingly. You won’t see or read much about us? We are boring? Maybe so, but we are the stable base upon which folks reach for the stars.

I’VE BEEN WEARIN’ A YANKEE CAP

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…and I’m still alive to write about it.  Of course it’s off now that they’ve been eliminated from the playoffs. Still, it’s risky business to live in Boston and root for any baseball team other than the Red Sox.

Don’t get me wrong–you’re allowed to hate our home team with unmitigated passion as most of Red Sox Nation did this past season.  But root for another one?  A New York team?  That’s flat out blasphemy.

So be it.  Had the Sox been in the playoffs, I would have rooted for them.  They are my hometown team and I’ve spent my entire life loving the one I’m with.  Problem is, I’ve lived in a number of cities long enough to have genuine affection for teams in those ports.

Before moving to Boston I lived in Chicago and rooted for the White Sox even though I lived near Wrigley.  The White Sox had Ritchie Allen and a manager, Chuck Tanner, I respected.  When given shit by the Chicago press about Allen’s habit of not taking batting practice, he shrugged it off and told reporters to watch the guy hit in games.  Allen eventually went on to win the American League’s Most Valuable Player.  Tanner knew what he was talking about and I had my new hometown team.

But the New York thing is an enduring love that has to do with my roots.  I grew up in Carteret, New Jersey (Exit 12 off the Turnpike) where, as I’ve previously written, it was possible to see the New York skyline on non-factory induced smog days.  New York had three teams–the Dodgers, Giants, and Yankees.  My childhood babysitter, while my parents worked the tavern, (it was a working peoples’ town so the bar was open from early morning until, well, early morning) was a huge Dodger fan so my first infatuation was with Brooklyn.  And my first gut-punching betrayal–when the Dodgers moved to California.

But by then I was allowed to hang at my dad’s bar where my mother’s sister, Aunt Jeanette, was working.  She was a die-hard Yankee fan and I became one too (though I spent many an hour under my covers with a transistor radio listening to Les Keiter recreate Giants games with recordings of crowd noise and sticks he knocked together when the ticker tape said “hit or “foul.”)

The complaints–even back in the days–that the Yankees just bought championships (often using the Kanas City team as an extension of their minor league franchises) didn’t bother me.  I’d already become enamored with my new favorite players: Yogi, Gil McDougald, and especially Moose Skowron since I played first base in Little League.

I traded baseball for politics when I entered The University of Wisconsin.  I hadn’t gone underground; I still knew the stars although I no longer followed any particular team.  It wasn’t until I landed in Chicago that my love for the game reignited and I renewed my vows–forever.

Yes, I’m a Red Sox fan.  But I still have affection and appreciation for all my past teams–other than the Dodgers.  So wearing the New York cap was simply a reflection of that fondness.

But now that they’ve been bounced from the playoffs I have another cap to wear–one that has a fancy D on it. Sue is from Detroit and has a fierce loyalty to her hometown.  Doesn’t care that much about baseball, but can still recite the Tiger line-up in the 1968 World Series.  In 2006 her mom was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer.  Tsiv decided against extreme measures preferring a limited but better quality of life with home hospice.  Sue, Jeff (Sue’s brother who also lives in Boston) Donna, his wife, and I took shifts flying out to be with her during the final six months.  Sometimes each of us went there alone, sometimes together.  The Tigers were in the playoffs that season and I got Tsiv into baseball.  We watched the games in her bedroom and rooted them on.  The night they advanced to the World Series, Sue and I were both there.  She and I danced around Tsiv’s bed as she chanted along with us. “Go Tigers, go Tigers!”  It was a wonderful moment in a sea of sadness.

So I’m happy to don my Tigers’ cap now as they enter the 2012 World Series.  And it comes at a great time since Sue and I, after thirty four years of living together, are getting married next Sunday.

This year I’m looking forward to rooting for Detroit in the midst of celebration rather than sadness.

Rehctaw from Rawrah http://rawrahs.blogspot.com/,  has graciously offered to pinch hit for me next Monday.  I believe you’ll enjoy his writing and I’ll visit with you all again on November 5th.