In Plain Engel-ish

Monarchy. What a simple ruling system. When a king dies, his eldest son then inherits the throne. What could possibly go wrong? How has that royal succession in England held up during the last 500 years? Let’s take a look.  Henry Tudor won the War Of The Roses in 1485 and became Henry VII. Did his eldest son, Arthur, then rule? No, he died as a teenager, so his younger brother, trained for the church, not for kingship, ruled. You know him: Henry The Eighth. But did his eldest son, Edward, rule? No. He was only nine when his father...

He was returning from abroad, where he had gone to enjoy life as a private citizen after leaving the White House. But his return was hardly private. The five-mile parade up Broadway in New York City in his honor brought out over one million fans, lining the streets and hanging out of the fifteen-story-high rises. And this was when our entire country held but ninety million people!  His name was Theodore Roosevelt, and the year was 1910. Newspapers reported that there were countless well-wishers waving toy bears over their heads. They became Roosevelt’s unique and charming symbol. Two years before,...

As a Jewish child, I never related to the Magical Beings of my Christian friends’ world. We didn’t celebrate Easter, so the Easter Bunny held little appeal. Besides, jelly beans were my least favorite candy and licorice was my least favorite taste, and the combination was too hideous to contemplate. As far as Santa Claus was concerned, when I was about eight I asked my mother if he was real. What a great answer she gave: “Honey, if he is, he doesn’t visit Jewish children, so what does it matter?” The one figure that gave me an insight into this...

I wanted to get a 100% on my fourth-grade science test. Yes, 90% would secure an “A,” but 100% would secure bragging rights at the dinner table, and I could mention it nonchalantly over Mom’s Salisbury steak. I wasn’t good at nonchalance yet (my speciality was gleefully waving the test paper in front of my parents), but I was slowly learning that appearing modest had its uses. On this particular science test I knew every answer but one — the name of the comet that passed by earth every seventy-five years. My mind drew a blank (unheard of then, but...

There are many things that we all agree are troublesome about being old. But if am going to complain about aging, I prefer to be unique in my regrets. So I shall now go on record as saying I hadn’t realized until recently that I no longer have a prayer of counting from one to a billion.  That ambitious endeavor would take over 31 years, so I would need to live to be 109 to complete the chore. Even though I remain an incurable optimist, I am guessing my obituary will not read “1948-2057” under my name. I console myself...