Cryo Kid

Can you imagine the joy a Canadian-born gal like me, inured to below zero weather, finds in picking oranges and grapefruits off her own fruit trees in a Californian March, when northerly climates can still expect a humdinger of a snow storm or two (just when you think it’s finally warming up, a blizzard takes you by surprise)? Now my daughter has added an English country garden to this Southwestern bliss, the kind she read about in storybooks when she was a little girl, a rambling kind of garden with a blanket of wildflowers (amazingly like the ones that cover the hilly slopes in springtime California)and flowering plants creeping up the surrounding walls. Until now large vines have crept up the back stone wall of our already lovely garden. Not any more. Out with the vines and in with the English-style garden (planned, of course, with plants indigenous to California that do not require much water). So in between our currently budding fruit trees (nectarine, plum, apple, and apricot, along with the ubiquitous orange and grapefruit), we’ll soon have lushly growing birds of paradise (one at each side), rose bushes, wildflowers, and rosemary creepers. We already have a small Victory garden, with tomato plants and cukes, along with herbs like oregano, chives, mint, rosemary, thyme, and lavender. I’m pushing for peas.

I’m old enough to remember the first time my family planted a Victory garden, an idea that was popularized by Eleanor Roosevelt during World War II. Our first Victory garden was on a balcony because my mother, my little sister, and I lived in a four-room apartment, but we planted window boxes full of veggies and flowers all over the balcony. (At one point, my resourceful mother put a sandbox for my sister on the balcony too.) When my dad, a Captain in the Canadian army, returned from overseas, we managed to buy a real house with a garden. Oh joy! And, even though we Victory had already been won, we planted a Victory garden. Such a wonder it was to see how peas came out of a pod and tasted so good!

So I am very grateful to Michele Obama for introducing a new generation of children to the concept of a Victory garden. A new age of miracles awaits their developing taste buds.

It took me by surprise when a doctor who hadn't examined me before asked if I was widowed. "No, I've been divorced for 25 years," I replied. "That's a long time to be alone," he commented. I was bemused because I never think of myself as "alone." To the contrary, I looked after my mother for the last ten years of her life. Then, for the next ten years,I helped my daughter, a single mom, with bringing up my darling grandchild. At various times, we all lived together. When I lived in Toronto, I filled my home with joy by hosting international students. My daughter and I are welcoming other students from abroad in Los Angeles. Our lives are replete with friends and meaningful activities. Alone? Only when I am at my computer, and then I'm with you. All of you.

Romance? There have been several post-divorce men in my life, but I have never wanted to marry or live with any of them. Why? Maybe because my cup was already running over. At 73, I suppose it's still a possibility, one that grows remoter every year, but one I still entertain. Faith? Yes, I have that too to sustain me, the feeling of connectedness to something larger than myself. In 1994, my book, "How To Live Alone Until You Like It…And Then You Are Ready For Somebody Else" was published (see www.timesolvers.com). By the time I finished writing it in 1990, I realized that I didn't like living alone, and so I invited my mother to live with me. When she passed away, I moved to L.A. to be with my children and grandchildren. "Alone" is not my cup of tea.

As I consider the happy moments that fill my life — even without a Husband No. 2 (in L.A., that's practically being a virgin), I realize that I should not take any of them for granted. For someone who has been "alone" for 25 years, I'm very, very lucky.

I was really up in the air when I read this news item. I was flying home from Vancouver to Los Angeles. And bang! I couldn't believe it. A major publisher was actually launching a new imprint called Hamish Hamilton Canada — and quoting favorable futuristic percentages. The new imprint is kind of classy, very high end, focused on writers with ambition. ("A New Breed of Penguin," National Post, March 7, WP11, www.nationalpost.com.)

Well, I know lots of writers with ambition, but only nine books will be chosen for the first run, and they will be LITERARY, as opposed to the more commercial sister line put out by Penguin.

Apparently, where there's literature, there's hope. Why not? The original Hamish Hamilton imprint was established in 1931, after the 1929 stock market. And so it seems entirely appropriate for this brand to be revitalized in time for the new depression. The new publishing enterprise will be headed by literary publishing star Nicole Winstanley. Lots of lady luck!

The most comprehensive compendium of human relations I've ever found is the Bible. Divinity aside (and whether you believe or disbelieve), its contents seem to cover almost every human interaction, in terms of an ancient agrarian society, to be sure, but applicable to contemporary situations in any age. Take the issues of fertility and infertility. When Abraham's wife is unable to conceive over a long period of time, Abraham uses a surrogate, the concubine Hagar, to produce a child for Sarah. This is Ishmael, later the ancestral progenitor of the Islamic nation. Then, very late in life, Sarah is finally able to conceive and bear her own child. She is so joyful about his birth that she names him "Isaac," which translates from the Hebrew as "he who laughs." So we know that even in biblical times, a late-age mother can successfully conceive a child that is brought to term. Why, then, should we be so astounded today when a mother past normal child-bearing age tries to have a child? Unfortunately, there was another human consequence from this story. Once she had her own child, Sarah grew jealous of Hagar and Ishmael and persuaded Abraham to send them away. Eventually there was a political consequence too.

Another case of infertility in the Bible concerns Hannah, who, despite their best efforts, was unable to conceive with her husband, Elkaneh's sperm. So, with his permission (which prevented charges of adultery), she had conjugal relations with another man — the sperm donor — and was able to produce a child so that she and the husband she loved could have a family. It seems to me that, when we apply biblical situations to the time in which we live, the Bible often takes a more "modern," commonsense view of human relationships than we moderns do.

Simply put, it's natural for a woman to want to have a child. What we moderns call a biological imperative. The dilemma we face, with all the scientific tools at our disposal now, is how to fulfill that imperative in an ethical way.

Odd that a creative discipline dependent on sight should express itself in invisibility. But that’s exactly what two very different artists are doing in Vancouver. Actually, they are both trying to make us conscious of what we DON’T see. I viewed the first exhibiting artist’s work at the Vancouver Art Gallery. The curator had culled her (Antonia Hirsch is her name, remember it!), along with other young graduate students, in order to present the emerging generation’s vision. The exhibit is called “How Soon is Now” to suggest the immediacy of that vision.

Antonia, the young artist I particularly admired, had created what at first appeared to me as a re-creationg of the big dipper, with metallic silver spheres placed in a specific pattern on a huge, otherwise blank white wall. On closer inspection, the pattern turned out to be Braille for “The Invisible Hand,” (the term Adam Smith coined in “The Wealth of Nations” to describe a self-regulatory market). When I looked even harder, I could see my own reflection in the silver spheres, which were actually surveillance spheres, and I could also see the surveillance cameras around the room that were surveying me as I watched myself. Invisibility indeed! Even the watchers are being watched. That’s how one young artist sees the world.

The work of the second artist, Jeppe Heim, known as a conceptual artist, was being exhibited at the Contemporary Art Museum, which consists of only two rooms. I can’t say I liked his work, but it certainly made me think, which is what conceptual art is supposed to do. The whole exhibit appeared with the title “Please, Please, Please” (as in “Please don’t touch the art”). The first room, painted completely white, was empty of everything but a small cube in one corner. As I entered the room, the cube began to vibrate furiously and emitted noises that sounded like an earthquake (and, coming from California, earthquake noises upset me). Small surprise that this room’s exhibit was subtitled “The Shaking Cube.” It certainly shook. My interpretation is that it is meant to suggest the creative energy that is boxed up inside it and that is struggling to come out. We’re not meant to think “inside the box.” Our ideas are larger than that.

The second room, also painted completely white, was sub-titled, appropriately, “The Invisible Cube.” As I walked into the room, supposedly divided in cubes, ear-piercing, cellphone-like noises were emitted. Only when I finally walked around the perimeter of the room did I notice raised white text running around the room like a chair rail. The text exhorted me to appreciate art in ways I had never done before: to touch it, kiss it, embrace it, dance to it — well, you get the idea. I was supposed to conceptualize the art in my head projected on the wall. Can’t say I really liked the exhibition, but it did make me conceptualize. Invisibly.

So far, writing a best seller has eluded me. True, I’ve written several works that have been well received, including poetry, plays, books, articles, even a “how to,” but no best seller yet. It’s all a matter of timing, I’ve been told. You have to write the book five minutes before the public wants to read about it. That will get it lots of publicity. If you write it before that, it’s too soon to gain public attention. You’re ahead of the game. If you write it too late, others will have beat you to it, and your material is dated or at best redundant.

Balderdash! Sheer nonsense, etc. That’s not how to write a best seller.

I found out the real route to writing a best seller at a lecture the other day. The speaker, a renowned rabbi, had just published a new book called, “Conscience: The duty to obey and the duty to disobey.” It’s a wonderful book that makes you think — hard — but, you know, it’s so full of thought-provoking material and biblical accuracy that you can only digest a little at a time. Hardly the stuff that best sellers are made of. Not exactly an easy-read thriller, a page-turner that you can finish in one sitting that makss the New York Times bestseller list (www.nytimes.com).

The rabbi confided that, although he had written other books (notably “For Those Who Cant Believe: Overcoming the Obstacles to Faith”), none of them had been best sellers. And,to tell the truth, he yearned for one. So he approached a fellow rabbi who has written several books that somehow had more popular appeal. They had turned out to be bestsellers.

“How can I write a best seller?” he asked his colleague.

“Oh, that’s easy,” the colleague replied with scholarly logic. “You just call it ‘Best Seller.’”

“You mean that’s the title of the book?”

“Sure,” said the colleague. “Then your friends can say, ‘Have you read Harold’s ‘Best Selller’? You’ll have a book that everyone calls a best seller.”

Actually, “Conscience” doesn’t need the hype. It’s a book that deserves to be a bestseller. Its author, Rabbi Harold Schulweis, rabbi emeritus of Valley Beth Shalom congregation in Encino (www.vbs.org), is one of the most respected rabbis in North America. His book is well worth the read. If you buy it, you can help make it a bestseller for real. The publisher is Jewish Lights Publishing (www.jewishlights.com). By the way, the friend who gave him good advice is Rabbi Harold Kushner, who wrote the best sellelr, “When Bad Things Happen to Good People.”

Oh yes, my latest book is called “Cryo Kid – Drawing a New Map” (www.cryokid.com).

When the public anger dies down over Nadya Suleman's delivery of octuplets she can't support, I think something very positive will emerge from this debacle. Now that Octo Mom, as the popular media so gleefully designates her, has pushed the uses of new reproductive technologies to the extreme, our society is forced to seriously consider the ethical and human issues behind the amazing possibilities this technology offers more suitable candidates. The urgent need for this kind of consideration is the point my book, "Cryo Kid – Drawing a New Map" makes (www.cryokid.com). As definitions of families sre changing (what "Cryo Kid" calls transformational families), how do we incorporate the values we cherish into these new social units? And how do we regulate the use of assisted reproduction technologies so that they benefit society rather than act to its detriment? Well, perhaps I wrote about these issues a tad (2008!)before they were plunged so dramatically into public awareness. Now, along with its sensationalistic coverage of the consequences of Suleman's actions, the media has begun to pay some critical attention to where baby making — and families — are really heading. Just the other day, National Public Radio did a segment on changing definitions of families (www. npr.org, Feb. 26, 2009,and yesterday the Vancouver Sun published an excellent article by Margaret Somerville on "Society's role in reproduction" (www.vancouversun.com, March 2, 2009. A7).

Somerville (the director of the Centre for Medicine, Ethics and Law at McGill University)suggests that the cumulative wisdom that is the basis for adoption procedures be applied to who should — or should not — be given access to reproductive technologies. Sounds reasonable. She may be right. But if she is, who will determine this eligibility? The government? If so, which government? Does government have any business in "the bedrooms of the nation"? The late Canadian Prime Minister, Pierre Elliot Trudeau, was emphatic that it does not. And even if our governments in Canada and the U.S. are the deciders for their citizens, other countries may not have the same policy. After all, artificial reproduction is a profitable industry. When fertility doctors in Calgary would not treat Ranjit Hayer, the 60-year-old mother who gave birth to twins recently, she went to India for in vitro insemination. Will it be possible to establish an international regulatory body in this field in the near future? So many questions to consider! For example, is "reduction" of embryos in the womb the same as abortion? Nadya Suleman thought it was and refused to let it happen. So she wound up with eight. Hayer believed it would protect the survival of her babies and ended up with two. Who's right? Is there a right or wrong? Should it be a matter of individual choice?

Should decision-making be left to the discretion of the medical profession? Some experts in the field of assisted reproduction caution against establishing any pat formulas as yet in regard to human reproduction. Regulations adopted in haste may have unintended consequences, as some of the medical and legal speakers at the conference on "Designer Babies" I attended last year intimated (and as I posted in an earlier blog). CDs of this conference are available from the Centre for Society and Genetices at UCLA (www.socgen.com).

One of the things I found valuable in Margaret Somerville's article is the distinction she makes between reproductive technology that repairs nature (as in the case of a 27-year-old mother whose fallopian tubes were blocked)) and technology that makes it possible to do what is impossible in nature. And she raises some important ethical issues that society will have to resolve in the near future, such as storing ovarian tissue for use later in life or sperm and ova made from adult stem cells. "What about creating a baby with more than two genetic parents." she asks, "or making a shared genetic baby between two men or two women?"

All these things, once not even visualized by science-fiction, are possible today. Are they good for society as we know it? As I see it, the only certainty is that the way we make babies and the composition of our family units are both in a state of flux. I believe that this is not the time for knee jerk decision-making or media sensationalism. It is not a time for irrational anger against a scapegoat whose mental health is in doubt. But it is time for reflective and considered study by those most knowledgeable in this field. This process has already started. What can be more important than our children-to-be? Or the well-being of our families, no matter how we define them.

In Los Angeles where I live, the people I know tend to resist going outdoors when it's raining. Why not cancel your appointments and wait for a better day when traffic won't be so terrible because of the puddles? There will be lots and lots of days when the sun shines. In Vancouver, however, where I'm currently visiting my daughter, most folks take it for granted that you gotta have a little rain sometime. Much of the time, that is. But in this Canadian city it's not just raining rain just now, it's also raining culture. My visit happily coincides with the Cultural Olympiad now taking place at many venues as part of the "Countdown to the Olympics 2010." First-rate cultural groups have been flocking in organized fashion from all over Canada to show their wares, so to speak. From the many groups — dance, music, theatre, comedy, technology –that have appeared and will continue to appear over a period of months, some of them will get bookings during the two weeks of the Olympics.

The collaborative linkages spurring on these artistic groups are really awe-inspiring. Last night, for example, I was part of a highly appreciative audience (on their feet hand-clapping, foot tapping, and actually dancing)for much of an energetic performance by the Klezmatics, a group that has been jamming together for 22 years. What made this evening so memorable was the way the jazz-inspired renditions of Jewish melodies were tied to soul music. You haven't heard Klezmer music until you've listened to Josh Nelson (who is both black and Jewish) belt out a gospel version of the Hebraic "Micha Mocha Baelim Adonai" (roughly "How great are you, O God") or "Hine Matov Uma Naim"("Here we are gathered together") to the strains of "When the Saints Go Marching In." The associations that banded together to present the concert were a thought-provoking combination as well. The concert was presented by Vancouver's Jewish Community Centre as part of their annual "Chutzpah Festival" in association with the Cultural Olympiad for Olympics 2010 and the Chan Centre (part of the architecturally splendid, and comfortable, Chan Complex devoted to the Arts)on the University of British Columbia's stunning campus. If all this sounds like a commercial for Vancouver's upcoming Olympics, as well as the cultural diversity that now exists in this city, it is — albeit an unsought one. It's worth going out umbrella-less (like many Vancouverites)in the rain to be here this February. I say this, of course, knowing that I'm returning to sunny California next week.

Yesterday I watched tree people prune the branches of the magnolia tree in my daughter's garden in Vancouver, Canada. If you have ever seen a magnolia tree in bloom, it's an unforgettable sight. This cutting, of course, was in pre-bloom period because the tree had grown too big for its space, dwarfing the rest of the garden. It reminded me of another cutting down — of a once magnificent oak tree in my long ago Toronto garden. Only in this instance the tree was felled not by men but by natural forces.

When I purchased my home in Toronto some twenty years ago, a very large tree smack in the middle of the garden provided excess shade and obscured my view of the beautiful park filled with small wildlife that adjoined my soon-to-be property. One of the major reasons for buying my two-story cottage, in fact, was the park behind my garden. Rarely frequented by people, in the summer the park was simply gorgeous; in the winter, white snow blanketed the ground and tree branches and remained there, pristine, unlike the slushy grey that covered the sidewalks elsewhere. To me, it represented a country retreat just a few steps away from city traffic. But the tree that obscured it had to go. Diseased beyond recovery, it would eventually rot away and have to be removed.

It had never occurred to me how costly it is to cut down a tree if you have to hire people to do it. Four hundred plus dollars was a huge dent in my budget in that early 1990s recession because I had expended almost all my resources just to buy the house and second-hand appliances. So I tossed and turned in my sleep worrying what to do about the oak tree.

Then, the very day before I moved in, lightning struck. Literally. During the night I couldn't sleep, there was a huge storm, and lightning struck down the tree. As I looked at the limbs and branches and most of the trunk of the tree strewn on the ground when I visited the house the next morning, I felt as if there had been a divine intervention just for me. "Thank you, God," I cried, "thank you for striking down this tree." Only a small stump remained.

A friendly neighbor came over to view the devastation. "You know, my brother has a fireplace," she said thoughtfully. "He could use the firewood." So we made a deal. The brother came over with a couple of guys and his tools to chop up the fallen tree, and they even removed the stump. It was a lot of firewood. And I had a great view of the park.

You never know when lightning will strike. Right now, visiting Vancouver, I have the impression that many people I am encountering here, do not yet realize the depth of the depression now engulfing the U.S. and much of the world. An article in the Vancouver Sun today bannered "Canadian Banks the Envy of the World" (Harvey Enchin, www.vancouversun.com, Feb. 28, 2009, D1). They are more stable because they are more regulated. But my daughter was shocked when a furniture store she frequents closed its doors this week because they buy on terms and can no longer get credit from the bank to do so. After 20 years in business, their business plan is apparently not good enough. And yesterday the son of my daughter's partner was laid off from his job in construction. Lightning struck.

That's why I'm writing about my tree. I know from personal experience that sometimes there are benefits from lightning that we do not forsee. They just happen. And that's why hope and belief in a brighter future come in handy. Thank God.

Three young Israeli doctors-in-training (one male, two female) shared our tea time table yesterday. All are completing their senior year of medicine in Israel and, as part of their training,interning for three months at UCLA. Since everyone in Los Angeles seems to have an opinion about the pros and cons associated with the recent birth of octuplets to a single mother on disability (with six more kids at home)through in vitro fertilization, I asked their opinion. The young Israeli doctors are here to take medical lessons from us. We can also take medical lessons from them.

For Israeli doctors, because of free universal health care there, the situation is very different than it is in the U.S. with respect to assisted reproduction technology. First of all, whether a mother is married or single does not matter. In vitro help to have a child is covered. Secondly, there is a more welcoming public attitude in regard to reproduction. Mindful of biblical injunctions to “go forth and multiply” , as well as the collective memory that the number of Jewish people — and their prospective descendants — was sadly decimated in the Holocaust, religious groups look upon having children as a priority. However, doctors maintain strong ethical guidelines when it comes to embryo implantation. Each woman, married or single, is entitled to free medical assistance to have two children by in vitro fertilization, and only two embryos will be implanted at a time. BUT and this is a big but. There is no guarantee that the implantation of embryos will result in a pregnancy. In Israel, if the embryos fail to implant, the woman can try again if she chooses — with another two embryos, until she has succeeded in having two children. At no personal financial cost. So in Israel, the financial aspect of universal health care supports both the medical and the religious ethics. By contrast, in the U.S., medical costs for assisted reproduction are beyond many women’s pocketbooks. (One of my own daughters was under forty, had excellent medical insurance and SOME of her costs were paid; another daughter was OVER forty, and, although she had good insurance too, NONE of her costs were paid.) That is why some doctors and some women, depending on the particular circumstances including age, implant more than two embryos at a time. If, as often happens, the implantation doesn’t result in a pregnancy, the woman can’t afford to try again.

The young Israeli doctors and I talked a lot about the issue of combining babies and careers, and how so many women in the boomer generation (these doctors are much younger, the children of boomers) waited too long to have babies. We talked about the looming infertility crisis in men as well. “We are educating the young people now that they can have both careers and babies at the same time,” said one of the young women doctors. “They don’t have to wait so long to have children,” the other added. “We teach them that biology has its limits.” Both women doctors-in-training were thirty years old. One had recently married. Neither had children as yet.

So? WHEN is it time to have children? In your twenties? In your early thirties? Before thirty-five? When do you suddenly look at the calendar and realize that it may be too late? When God blesses you, like the biblical Sarah, at any age? I have to admit, though, that eight is a lot of blessing.