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Christopher Reeve and George Reeves. Two men, unrelated, with almost identical surnames. These two men died young, in the prime of their lives. George was 45 when he died, and Christopher, 52. They were both American celebrities who achieved stardom for their acting achievements. Both played the starring role of the hero Superman – George, in the original television series of the 50's, and Christopher, in the big budget motion picture films in the 70's and 80's. On the surface, the two men's lives seem similar. But each held such different belief systems, effectively changing the direction of how they led their lives--and how they died their deaths. <hr width="50%" noshade="noshade" size="2" align="center" /> According to the Los Angeles Police Department report, in the late hours of the night on June ...

$5.95 for a Cup of Coffee?

"$5.95 for a cup of coffee? You gotta be kidding!" Well, millions of people around the world enjoying their Starbucks obviously don't think so… In Starbucks CEO Howard Shultz's book, Pour Your Heart into It, he writes that "the best way to build a brand is one person at a time—starting with your staff." And so, with his assuming ownership of the company in 1987 he promptly made sure that every single employee became a shareholder in the company. They in turn also became passionate about their coffee, like he was. The company's astounding annual financial reports indicate that the ball didn't stop rolling there… Yet, while Mr. Schultz must be credited with amazing results transforming four coffee shops in Seattle into more than 16,000 in 49 countries, he definitely can't claim originality for his ...

Beyond Co-dependency

The Talmud offers a vivid description of how every night at midnight, the Shechinah weeps bitterly for the Jewish people who are still in exile, and for our world which has yet to experience redemption. As part of our own yearning for the redemption, we are meant to meditate on this and feel the depth of pain experienced by the Shechinah. Our longing for the redemption, we are told, is not only about ridding ourselves of our personal or communal distress, but also about empathizing with how much greater G‑d's pain must be for us. To be honest, I've always found this concept very difficult. How can I fathom G‑d's pain, when He is the cause of our remaining in this bitter exile? Should I feel sorry for someone who in the process of hurting or punishing others gets hurt himself? I read about the horrific persecutions throughout history, endured in almost ...

What's Your Favorite Color?

I love this time of year. There's a nip in the air but the harsh winter has yet to set in, which makes walking outdoors ever so refreshing. But what I really love most about this season is the glorious colors everywhere. Taking a walk hand-in-hand with my youngest daughter, she giggles happily as she jumps on the piles of fallen leaves. We count the trees that have become bare and note those that still carry foliage, tenaciously gripping onto their last few days, or weeks, of life. But mostly, we exult in the many changing colors. Her favorites are the brighter shades of cherry pink and blood red, while I prefer the richer, deeper mahoganies, auburns and burgundies. Along the way we observe how entire trees, previously a light shade of forest green have transformed into fiery mixes of orange, rust and dark browns, while others have just as magically become golden and mustard yellow. ...

Bloodwork

The other day I needed to do some bloodwork for my annual check-up. This time, I decided I'd be conscientious and take care of it on time. At least, semi on time. Usually, I try to look away — anywhere — to avoid the sight of that gory, red blood. But, that day, I guess I was being brave. The nurse stuck the needle into my arm and, immediately, a gush of blood filled the container. But one container doesn't suffice. Sure enough, when the container filled after a few seconds, the nurse had another empty one on the ready… And then another… And another. I was still being brave, though feeling a tad fainter and growing paler by the minute, but still watching, mesmerized in some strange way. I was thinking about the blood. My blood. My deep, red blood. My deep, red blood that is flowing right out of me. As the nurse replaced the ...