Timing is everything

This morning NPR ran an op-ed about Saddam Hussein's trial, and his incarceration in the meantime, pointing out that he's being treated humanely, is likely to use the same lawyer his henchguy is using, etc. Ah, the glories of democracy, where even horrible nasty people get the same treatment that anyone else committing a crime would.

Of course, putting this right after a story about Jose Pedilla and how the Court of Appeals just rejected the Shrub's bid to have US nationals kept locked up indefinitely without being charged and without counsel, not to mention all the non-US nationals held at Guantanamo, made the lawyer in the second piece sound rather stupid, blindly supporting a system that doesn't necessarily work that way any more, unless you're famous enough to make it happen.

Hannukah memories

Not today's official Friday five (wherever they come from), but definitely seasonal.

1. Watching the menorahs burn for the minute my mom turned out the lights in the kitchen, particularly on later nights of the holiday, four menorahs-worth of candlelight.
   We lit candles in the kitchen, on the flat stovetop, rather than on the rough wood windowsills, for safety. Frankly, we had such a long driveway and the house was so surrounded by trees that it didn't make much sense to me at the time to put them in the window anyway*.
   *It is traditional to light menorahs in the window, to publicize the miracle. I have to admit that these days, I wonder if they're even noticeable, compared to some of the massive xmas decorations.
   
2. Eating potato kugel.
   My mom thought that latkes were too greasy*, so used the same batter to make a kugel (baked, not fried) instead.
   *Er, that's the point, emphasizing the miracle of the olive oil burning for all those extra days. Of course, Mom was just looking out for our health. :-)
   
3. Cleaning out the menorahs.
   I don't know why it was so satisfying to get all the old colored wax out, using toothpicks, but it was, especially when I could get a chunk of wax with a lot of different colors. Yeah, I'm strange.
   
4. Choosing a menorah.
   My parents have a fair number of them, so there was a fair bit of choice. The three I most remember are
   
   • the very traditional one that had been my grandparents, with the shamash held just behind and above the others by lions of Judah, in the middle of the row, so by the fourth day it made a mess burning down so quickly
     
   • a very non-traditional one with all the candles held at different levels and not in one plane, either, the metal designed to look rather like melting wax. That one had balance issues, and I didn't care for it much.
     
   • a modern one with all the candles in a row, the base being a triangular wedge with Jerusalem stone mosaic balanced on one edge, the other side balanced with a curl of metal. I frequently wanted this one, perhaps because my mom liked it a lot.
   
   
5. Getting presents.
   This is where my (lack of) wrapping gene comes from. Mom would bring out whatever present there was that night, usually something smallish (a book, a lot of the time :-), in a bag. Yes, a plastic bag, or a paper bag, not a gift bag. And that would frequently be reused for a couple of nights, too. So I have no wrapping tradition to live up to... I'm always impressed when others make such carefully wrapped things.
   The presents themselves? I really can't remember any specifically that weren't books. How weird.

Short shorts

No Nair, though.

Phrase of the day: ectoplasmic makeup.
A little lipstick here, a little cell gel there...

Are there more stupid drivers on the road this month? Or am I just finding more of them on my routes?

Yet again, I missed the Santa Speedo Run. I'm not sure I'm disappointed, either.