In this issue

Jonathan Tobin: Defending the Right to a Jewish State

Heather Hale: Compliment your kids without giving them big heads

Megan Shauri: 10 ways you are ruining your own happiness

Carolyn Bigda: 8 Best Dividend Stocks for 2015

Kiplinger's Personal Finance editors: 7 Things You Didn't Know About Paying Off Student Loans

Samantha Olson: The Crucial Mistake 55% Of Parents Are Making At Their Baby's Bedtime

Densie Well, Ph.D., R.D. Open your eyes to yellow vegetables

The Kosher Gourmet by Megan Gordon With its colorful cache of purples and oranges and reds, COLLARD GREEN SLAW is a marvelous mood booster --- not to mention just downright delish
April 18, 2014

Rabbi Yonason Goldson: Clarifying one of the greatest philosophical conundrums in theology

Caroline B. Glick: The disappearance of US will

Megan Wallgren: 10 things I've learned from my teenagers

Lizette Borreli: Green Tea Boosts Brain Power, May Help Treat Dementia

John Ericson: Trying hard to be 'positive' but never succeeding? Blame Your Brain

The Kosher Gourmet by Julie Rothman Almondy, flourless torta del re (Italian king's cake), has royal roots, is simple to make, . . . but devour it because it's simply delicious

April 14, 2014

Rabbi Dr Naftali Brawer: Passover frees us from the tyranny of time

Greg Crosby: Passing Over Religion

Eric Schulzke: First degree: How America really recovered from a murder epidemic

Georgia Lee: When love is not enough: Teaching your kids about the realities of adult relationships

Cameron Huddleston: Freebies for Your Lawn and Garden

Gordon Pape: How you can tell if your financial adviser is setting you up for potential ruin

Dana Dovey: Up to 500,000 people die each year from hepatitis C-related liver disease. New Treatment Has Over 90% Success Rate

Justin Caba: Eating Watermelon Can Help Control High Blood Pressure

The Kosher Gourmet by Joshua E. London and Lou Marmon Don't dare pass over these Pesach picks for Manischewitz!

April 11, 2014

Rabbi Hillel Goldberg: Silence is much more than golden

Caroline B. Glick: Forgetting freedom at Passover

Susan Swann: How to value a child for who he is, not just what he does

Cameron Huddleston: 7 Financial Tasks You Should Tackle Right Now

Sandra Block and Lisa Gerstner: How to Profit From Your Passion

Susan Scutti: A Simple Blood Test Might Soon Diagnose Cancer

Chris Weller: Have A Slow Metabolism? Let Science Speed It Up For You

The Kosher Gourmet by Diane Rossen Worthington Whitefish Terrine: A French take on gefilte fish

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 21, 2014 / 23 Tammuz, 5774

This Boot Is Barely Made for Walking: Coping with the minor indignities of age

By Mugger

JewishWorldReview.com | Next year I'll turn 60, and although St. Peter's greeting is defiantly just one diagnosis away, no real complaints here about my well-being. Sure, my eyesight goes further South every year—say hey to Mr. Magoo!—but apparently I've been spared the worst genetic defects of my parents, who were both snuffed in middle age by heart disease and brain cancer, respectively. All of which could change in the space of seven quick renditions of "Whistle While You Work," but at present, this Humpty Dumpty is still perched on that glorious wall.

Still, the indignities of age do crop up now and again, and my lifelong stubbornness in hieing off to the doctor when a malady occurs has reached the point where smug stoicism is not so smart. I should've learned this lesson back in 2009 when a rash broke out first on my chest and then neck, which I ignored until my wife got out the rolling pin and made an appointment for me at Baltimore's GBMC, my preferred hospital (if one can really have a preference for one of those gloomy institutions), and it turned out I had a severe case of shingles. My physician just glowered and said I'd compounded the problem by waiting so long, and warned that recovery was not in the offing in just a week's time.

Lesson not learned! Ten days ago, I was shutting down the sun room of our North Baltimore house—lights, TV, dirty dishes—around midnight after dozing off at the conclusion of an outstanding Endeavour episode (the Brit prequel to Inspector Morse), and my foot had fallen asleep. Paying no heed, I went about my business and took a nasty spill while reaching for a lamp. Fell flat on my back, and completely messed up my right foot, which immediately began to swell. I gingerly walked up to my third-floor office, checked a few emails, and hit the sack. The next morning the foot had blown up to the size of a ripe cantaloupe and the first bruises appeared, but my reasoning was that since I was able to sleep nothing particularly untoward had occurred. Melissa suggested I get it checked out, evoking the better safe than sorry maxim, but I shooed her off, saying that Advil would do the trick. Went to work, walked several blocks like a gimp—is using that word a hate crime?—to Starbucks at noon for a coffee and tapped out a story that was oddly full of praise for The New York Times' honorary septuagenarian Ross Douthat. Should've been a tip-off, I suppose, but I ignored it and later followed my strict routine at home.

Trouble was, as the week progressed, the swelling got worse, as did the nagging (if not crippling) pain and I started to think well, maybe this bothersome foot needs attention. Two days ago, my son Booker drove me to a convenient MedStar PromptCare on York Rd., and after filling out reams of paperwork (how they read it is anyone's guess, since my penmanship resembles that of a dim monkey), and seeing several assistants and lying still for x-rays, the doctor there said I'd fractured the foot and fitted me with a walking boot. Swell! Not only was the boot very hard to figure out, for me at least, since it has several key straps and an inflate/deflate button, but she said that surgery or a cast might be in my immediate future. A follow-up appointment was set for the following week, but Melissa was having none of that and got me an audience with an orthopedist at St. Joseph Hospital yesterday (It's a Catholic joint, and the crucifixes staring at you from every corner kind of creeps me out, but that's uncharitable carping). Again, Booker chauffeured me to the unpleasantness, and though the clerks at the front desk were very grumpy, and didn't even laugh at a joke I cracked, the doctor was terrific. Mostly because, after scanning the disc of x-rays, he said nothing more than the infernal boot was necessary.

The downside: Booker and I were planning a trip to Chicago next weekend—his first visit to Wrigley Field—and I looked forward to having dinner with Tom Rehwaldt, one of the Chicago Reader's founders and a splendid fellow whom I haven't seen in years. Tom and his partners had helped my co-publisher Alan Hirsch and I at the weekly City Paper in the early 1980s, with invaluable advice, as well as buying a large share of our ambitious sister paper in Washington, D.C., and, as it was heyday of print weeklies, we saw each other quite often, either in Chicago, Baltimore or New York or Phoenix. Anyhow, while the doc said I could make the trip if the swelling disappeared, he cautioned that even walking in sneakers—the preferred footwear after such an accident—my mobility would be limited. Now, really, who wants to travel to a world-class city like Chicago and not take advantage of the museums, Polish and Mexican (Chicago, oddly, has a large Mexican population) restaurants and handing out dollar bills to the hobos on Michigan Ave.?

It goes without saying that I dodged a far stickier situation, but I'm still cheesed off, mostly at myself for not attending to the foot the day after it was injured. So, the next time I throw out my back lifting far-too heavy boxes or water jugs, will I scram to the hospital? Probably not, but it appears that this cat's cavalier attitude about bumps, bruises, nagging aches and pinched nerves is on borrowed time.

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JWR contributor "Mugger" -- aka Russ Smith -- is the editor-in-chief and CEO of SpliceToday.com

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