Tuesday, Dec 24th

gerstenblattAs both a parent of two elementary-aged children in the district and as a former Scarsdale Middle School teacher, I feel comfortable sharing with you what I know and what I believe about safety. Scarsdale schools do have in place a good security system, which was implemented after 9/11. It works as long as people do not prop open the doors out of laziness or for convenience. Teachers and students also have lockdown practices and the faculty conducts yearly drills with local police.

But you know all of this. You've heard it from Michael McGill and other officials. Rationally, we can say, the doors are locked, the teachers are aware of what to do. But, ultimately, we never really know what will happen in life.


And so that's why I say that I feel as safe as I possibly can feel about sending my children to school in a world where random, unimaginable violence lives.

To surrender to the fears I felt on Monday when I put my children on the school bus would have meant giving in to terror. I refuse to do that.

I do not want our schools to become prisons. I do not want there to be guards outside every door. I want my children, when they are older, to feel free to come and go on the high school campus, provided they don't cut biology class in order to get a sandwich at Lange's. I refuse to let terror rule my life.

That being said, since the school shootings in Columbine, there is not a classroom I enter without thinking, where would I hide the children? I have lived through scary days in school. On September 11th, I drew a map of Manhattan on the blackboard of my 7th grade English classroom and assured my students that their parents, if they were working on 75th street or near Grand Central Station, were safe.


I did not know that for certain. But I needed them to believe it.


On Friday, December 14th at 1:30 pm, I parked outside my own children's elementary school. I had just heard the tragic story coming out of Newtown and entered the Fox Meadow office in a state of distress. I was there to teach art appreciation to my son's 5th grade class. I was crying and needed to sit down. It was hard to breathe. I was ushered into the conference room where I talked with our principal, teacher-in-charge, and secretary. They brought me water and hugged me.


"If you don't want to be at school right now, we'll understand," Mr. Wilson said to me. "You don't have to teach."

To be at school, to teach, to be with my children – there was complexity to my distress. I felt shocked and grief-stricken, yes, but I also felt so overwhelmingly lucky in that moment. And I felt safe in my children's school.

In fact, there was no place else I'd rather be.

Columnist and blogger Julie Gerstenblatt writes with humor and candor about her life in Scarsdale, her friends and family, and the particular demands of motherhood and wifedom in modern-day suburbia. Read about her new book Lauren Takes Leave and keep up with the latest from Julie Gerstenblatt at http://juliegerstenblatt.com

viequesStep 1. Ignore TripAdvisor: Every time I plan a vacation, I turn to TripAdvisor for advice, and you know what? That's a baaaaad idea. That site totally messes with my head. I think I know what I want to do for vacation, and then I read awful stories written by pissed off people venting online, and then I get totally confused. Here's an example. For my 10th wedding anniversary, I was going to book a trip with my lovely husband, Brett, to Parrot Cay, a romantic getaway off Turks and Caicos. Everyone I spoke to said it was amazing. Jennifer Anniston was supposedly in love with Parrot Cay. All systems were go until I read ONE REVIEW by a STRANGER saying that there was never enough food to eat at the resort and that I should bring my own granola bars and pretzels to snack on, because that place was so remote it was like vacationing on the set of Survivor.
I did not go to Parrot Cay. I booked us at the Four Seasons, Nevis, which was hit by a hurricane two months before our trip.
We ended up vacationing in freezing cold NYC.

I like to think it's all TripAdvisor's fault. That website should just be called ShutUpAndStayHome.

Last year, I booked a family vacation in Puerto Rico for Christmas break. Because there is seriously something wrong with me, I again read the TripAdvisor reviews of the resort before committing, but this time at least, I did not let the chatter completely influence my decision-making. It was like, I know some of the rooms are old, and I know that some of the restaurants at the resort suck, and I know that it's a shlep to the beach, BUT we're going there anyway, and we're going to have an awesome time, goddammit, regardless of what those TripAdvisor crazies have to say because we're traveling on Amex points and this is the best we can do at Christmastime! So there!

We arrived at the hotel on a glorious, hot, sunny day and looked out at the deep blue ocean. All of us Gerstenblatts were beginning to relax and unwind...until we got to our room.

"I requested an ocean-view room in the building on the hill," I told the porter who was bringing us down, down, down the hill to the marina area.

He checked his data. "You requested ocean-view only. You cannot make two different requests."

"But I heard that the rooms in the marina smell like low tide and have had flooding issues in the past, leaving them moldy!" I said.

"You heard?" Brett asked. "From who?"

"From the hoard of complainers on TripAdvisor!" I said. Maybe there had been two.

The porter opened the door to our room, and all five of us – four Gerstenblatts and one hotel employee – held our breath, waiting to see how awful it really was.

The room was beautiful. It was light and airy and newly renovated. A sliding glass door opened to a deck with chairs overlooking the expanse of ocean, with islands in the distance. It was so bright I had to squint.

And even though my eyes were telling me one thing, my brain was still telling me another: this room was no good. The BEST ones were up the hill. We were somehow missing out.

We unpacked and headed to the pool, but it took me all day to shake the notion that I was somehow being screwed out of a perfect vacation by not being in a room on the hill. And then I realized that TripAdvisor had inadvertently turned me into one of their minions, a complaining, negative Nelly who wouldn't settle for being satisfied when they could strive for being disappointed.

Forget any website's comments, my negativity was the thing that was going to ruin my family's already perfect vacation. So I backed off, jumped in the pool, and realized that I was with my family in a tropical paradise with great weather, and there was nothing anyone on the World Wide Web could say to make me doubt myself any more.

Step 2. Read TripAdvisor

Call me crazy (you wouldn't be the first one!), but I still feel that sites like TripAdvisor do offer helpful information – as long as you can remain calm and take all advice with a grain of salt. Or sand, as the case may be. Many people who write reviews online are the ones at both ends of the spectrum, because they were either extremely satisfied or extremely disappointed with an experience. Knowing that makes me slightly more sane. But only slightly.

Step 3. Always vacation in the same place


There is an adjustment period when you travel to a new locale. How long does it take to get to the hotel? What's the best spot by the pool? Where should we eat breakfast? How potent are the Margaritas and how many can mommy drink before she goes snorkeling? You can avoid all these issues by returning to the same resort year after year. The people who we met at the airport and who were returning to our resort in Puerto Rico for the second, fourth, or eleventh time were already chillaxing at the baggage carousel. They knew what they were heading towards – their favorite water slides, the nightly outdoor movies, beach volleyball – and had already gotten over the hump of those first 24 hours. Although I love to try different hotels on for size, I can see the appeal in returning to a known destination and just saying "ahhhh."

Step 4. Bring a great book


I just read the cheesiest, badest, couldn't-put-it-down book and I think you should read it on your vacation. It's called On The Island by Tracey Garvis-Graves, and it's a sexy survival story of a 16-year-old boy and his 30-year-old female tutor whose plane goes down in the Maldives. On the Island is like The Blue Lagoon (cheeseball 1980 romantic movie) meets Hatchet (a children's book about a boy who is lost in the Canadian wilderness for 54 days), and my friend Suzanne recommended it to me. If you hate it, feel free to blame TripAdvisor.

Safe travels, everyone! See you in 2013!

gerstenblattColumnist and blogger Julie Gerstenblatt writes with humor and candor about her life in Scarsdale, her friends and family, and the particular demands of motherhood and wifedom in modern-day suburbia. Read about her new book Lauren Takes Leave and keep up with the latest from Julie Gerstenblatt at http://juliegerstenblatt.com

HanukkahHarryDear Hanukah Harry, The first thing I want this year for Hanukah is Christmas. No offense to my People. I love being Jewish. It's just that Christmas looks like so much fun, don't you think? Anyone who doesn't celebrate it is kidding herself if she says she isn't just a tad bit envious of the hoopla surrounding December 25th. There is a tree to pick out and decorate. There are carols to sing. There is eggnog to drink. There are awful tinsel-covered sweaters to wear.

Harry, at Christmastime, you get to string colored lights on your house and put reindeer antlers on your dog!


Can't I do it just once? For 2012? I promise not to celebrate it for any religious significance, just as the cultural phenom it has become.


Look at it this way. Hollywood has immortalized the Christmas spirit in classic movies like "White Christmas" and "It's a Wonderful Life." They even celebrate the stress of the holiday with movies like "4 Christmases" and "Christmas Vacation." There's "Miracle on 34th Street," and "Elf" and "Scrooged" and "Bad Santa." There's "The Nightmare Before Christmas," "Arthur Christmas" and "The Santa Clause." There's a Home Alone Christmas and a Muppet one, too. Christmas is so mainstreamed, so American! Just like me!

When I tried to think of Hanukah movies, I couldn't come up with a single one. Then I remembered that Adam Sandler, the Patron Saint of Hanukah, had made "8 Crazy Nights" a few years ago, cornering the market on animated Hanukah musicals. But beyond that one, I was stumped. Google was of little help, bringing me to a site that promisingly listed the Top Ten Hanukah movies. Number one on the list was the little-heard-of holiday classic, "Shalom Sesame," in which Grover goes on "an exploration of Jewish traditions and identities."

Is Grover Jewish? Hmm. Did you know this, Harry?


The list fell apart from there, with titles like "Chanukah on Planet Matzah Ball," and "Chanukah and Passover at Bubbe's." Maybe the first hurdle to creating a quintessential seasonal feel-good flick is that no one can agree to a definitive spelling of the holiday. How can we immortalize Chanukah when it's also Hanukah, Harry?


Oy.


In short, if I treat Christmas like one big, over commercialized, jingle-infested Santa mall, can't I celebrate it just this one time?

Pleeeze?


Fine. Moving on.


The next thing I want for Hanukah this year may seem underwhelming to you after the big shanda of my Christmas wish, but here it is, my soul laid bare: I want a second refrigerator to store extra food in my basement.


"I got a second refrigerator in my garage last year, and it changed my life," my friend told me the other day. She actually boasted about it, if truth be told.


If I had a second refrigerator in my basement – or, I could put it in the garage, I suppose - I could buy items in bulk, thereby reducing my carbon footprint and helping Al Gore and the planet. As it is right now, I drive to the supermarket twice or sometimes three times a day in my big stinking SUV. I bet that if I could buy 50 frozen pizza bagels instead of one puny box of 9 at a time, I would be a saner person and the hole in the ozone layer would begin to heal. My kids would never run out of fish sticks or pizza bagels or ice cream, and I'd never have to cook again because all I'd have to do is heat things up or defrost them. I'd spend less time in my car, aimlessly driving around suburbia trying to remember the one thing I forgot to get at the grocery store and more time ranting to the world via my computer. That's what I'd call a win-win.


Lastly, Hanukah Harry, I'd like a personal assistant. It's really hard to keep track of all my little post-it notes with to-do lists scribbled on them. I'd say that 6 out of 10 items get done later rather than sooner, and approximately 1 out of every ten items doesn't get done at all. I would be much more efficient if I could just tell someone else what I need done and have them do it for me.

Think about it this way, Harry: if someone else bought, kept track of, and wrapped my children's 16 Hanukah presents, then I'd have plenty of time to string the lights on my Christmas tree.

gerstenblattColumnist and blogger Julie Gerstenblatt writes with humor and candor about her life in Scarsdale, her friends and family, and the particular demands of motherhood and wifedom in modern-day suburbia. Read about her new book Lauren Takes Leave and keep up with the latest from Julie Gerstenblatt at http://juliegerstenblatt.com

 

madoffturqgirlsattableOn Wednesday December 5  students at Scarsdale High School showed school spirit and paid tribute to a friend. In memory of Tyler Madoff's would-be 16th birthday and favorite color, students and teachers dressed in turquoise. The hallways were flooded with turquoise jeans, shirts, scarves, and backpacks. Students also wore pins and bracelets made in Tyler's memory. The school announced that funds are being collected to raise a flag in his honor on school grounds. Tyler was on the minds of many student and teachers who joined as a community to take a small act in commemorating him.Madoffturqoise4girlsmadoffturquoise2Madoffturquoise3girlsText and photos contributed by SHS sophomore Isabel Kleinmadoffturquoisesuzman

candyturkeyEver bump into someone and start having a funny conversation about nothing, a la Seinfeld? Well, that happens to me all the time. In this new "series," I am going to re-tell these random discussions with as much accuracy as I can, for no other reason than because I want to.

While walking out of the JCC the other day, I was stopped and greeted by my friend Lisa. She picks up from gymnastics when I drop off for swimming, so we now have a sort of planned-unplanned chat every Tuesday in the hallway while waiting for our children. Here is our most recent:


Lisa: Hi! How are you?


Me: Good, thanks. What's up?


Lisa: I think you should be writing about Pinterest. I'm on there, and like,
why isn't Julie writing about this?

Me: Because I'm kind of dis-Pinterested in it.


Lisa: You are? You're dis-Pinterested? I just joined and I think it's so great!

Me: Ah, you just joined, maybe that's why. And there are pretty pictures.

Lisa: Also, it really speaks to my OCD! This one woman collected all her recipes and she photographs the food. It's a great place for Thanksgiving ideas!


Me: Ah, you want Thanksgiving ideas. I don't. I just do the same boring thing every year and hate it.


Lisa: See, that was me and my sister and mom before! We made all this food that no one even wanted to eat!


Me: Welcome to my holiday table!


Lisa: But now I've got all these fun ideas from Pinterest. I've even printed out this thing, it's a Thanksgiving trivia questionnaire and I'm going to put one on everybody's seat. It asks things like, how many feathers does a turkey have?


Me: (Actually wanting to know the answer to this question, oddly enough.) That sounds fun! I think my family should just come over to your house for Thanksgiving.


Lisa: (Not taking the bait.) Also, I learned something else about technology this week. I learned from my younger cousin that Facebook is (insert dramatic pause here) for old people.


Me: Old meaning us?


Lisa: Yes. Apparently, younger people are Instagramming.


Me: Jeez. I don't really even know what that is. Just taking pictures?


Lisa: I asked my cousin if she uses Facebook at all, and she's like, "Yeah...I go on a little bit, every once in a while..."


Me: Maybe that's because Facebook is now the best way to complain about having no electricity, and how hard your kids' math homework is, so...maybe it really has become where old people hang out in cyberspace.


Lisa: I'm telling you, Instagram.


Me: Huh. Well, Happy Thanksgiving!


Lisa: You, too!

gerstenblattColumnist and blogger Julie Gerstenblatt writes with humor and candor about her life in Scarsdale, her friends and family, and the particular demands of motherhood and wifedom in modern-day suburbia. She recently published her first novel, Lauren Takes Leave.