Holidays compared
Guest commentary by Glori Young

Here are some Christmas and Hanukkah comparisons:
· Christmas is one day, same day every year, Dec. 25. Jews love Dec. 25. It's another paid day off work. We go to movies and out for Chinese food and Israeli dancing. Hanukkah is eight days. It starts the evening of the 24th of Kislev, whenever that falls. No one is ever sure. Jews never know until a non-Jewish friend asks when Hanukkah starts, forcing us to consult a calendar so we don't look like idiots. We all have the same calendar, provided free with a donation to either the World Jewish Congress, the kosher butcher, or the local Sinai Memorial Chapel (especially in Florida).
· Christmas is a major holiday. Hanukkah is a minor holiday with the same theme as most Jewish holidays: They tried to kill us, we survived, let's eat.
· Christians get wonderful presents such as jewelry, perfume, stereos. Jews get practical presents such as underwear, socks or the collected works of the Rambam, which looks impressive on the bookshelf.
· There is only one way to spell Christmas. No one can decide how to spell Hanukkah - Chanuka, Chanukah, Chanukka, Channukah, Hannukah, Hannuka
· Christmas is a time of great pressure for husbands and boyfriends. Their partners expect special gifts. Jewish men are relieved of that burden. No one expects a diamond ring on Hanukkah.
· Christmas brings enormous electric bills. Candles are used for Hanukkah. Not only are we spared enormous electric bills, but we get to feel good about not contributing to the energy crisis.
· Christmas carols are beautiful - "Silent Night," "O Come All Ye Faithful." Hanukkah songs are about dreidels made from clay or having a party and dancing the horah. Of course, we are secretly pleased that many of the beautiful carols were composed and written by our tribal brethren ("White Christmas," Irving Berlin). And don't Barbra Streisand and Neil Diamond sing them beautifully?
· A home preparing for Christmas smells wonderful - the sweet smell of cookies and cakes baking. Happy people are gathered around in festive moods. A home preparing for Hanukkah smells of oil, potatoes and onions. The home, as always, is full of loud people all talking at once.
· Women have fun baking Christmas cookies. Women burn their eyes and cut their hands grating potatoes and onions for latkes on Hanukkah - another reminder of our suffering through the ages.
Glori Young is a resident of Ojai.

White makes right
Bret Bradigan, OVN publisher

Ojai's last white Christmas was in 1916. It made banner headlines all around Southern California. After 87 years, we're due.
Looking at long-range forecasts leaves little room for optimism. It is likely to be a typical Ojai winter day - equivalent to the best day of spring in most of the rest of the county - about 70 degrees, sunny with a light breeze.
Having grown up in the snowiest region of the U.S., I was a teenager before I faced a green, or rather, a muddy brown, Christmas. I remember clearly the sodden thaw that preceded the big day, and the whump as the final few icicles fell from the eaves. It was painful because my sister and I, as the only children still at home, expected a more generous bounty of gifts that year. Among those gifts, leaning behind the tree, shining with slippery lacquer, was a 7-foot ashwood toboggan.
It sat there for nearly two weeks. Winter vacation ended before a snowstorm substantial enough to take out the toboggan struck, and I watched from the window at school as the first few flakes fell, hoping that enough of them would bury the roads, canceling school and allowing us to test out our new ride.
Ojai kids, I suspect, have little appreciation for their good fortune. For them, snow is a choice. Should they so choose, they can pile in the SUV with their parents and head for Pine Mountain, or even Mammoth Mountain, and all the snow they could want. And when they want no more, head back to the sun-blessed groves of Ojai. Snow is regarded as an occasional treat, and not a constant threat.
We children of the Snow Belt made the most of it, because we had no escape. And before I bore you further with tales of frozen youth, I have a point. Christmas is not complete without snow.
Many of our Christmas traditions - Sinter Klaas, O Tannenbaum and Heilege Nacht - were formed amid the snowy plains of northern Germany and hills of Bavaria. Our Christmas carols exult in the jingling of sleigh bells and dreams of "White Christmas." It is the one time of year when winter's icy grip is appreciated.
My first real Christmas in Ojai was special. Carolers came by our house, my wife tuned up her violin and played along. Entire neighborhoods seemed packaged with the lights of Christmas cheer. It was the first occasion since I was a child that I felt at peace, at home without snow. That testifies to both Ojai and my wife.
When I wax nostalgic about those days in the Snow Belt, which are much better in the imagining than they were in the actual, Ojai veterans may wonder why so many of us Snow Belt refugees choose to live here. Six reasons come to mind, starting with November and ending with April. But there is one compelling argument against Ojai's supremacy, and that is its lack of white Christmas. A mere handful of people who witnessed Ojai's previous snowy yule remain. Let us hope that they haven't seen their last. If only in our dreams.

© 2003 The Ojai Valley News

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