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Two of my dear male friends, one older, one younger, have told me within the last two weeks that they’d rather play golf than have sex.

The story of Hanukkah is the story of religious freedom. In 168 BC King Antiochus the 4th, who inherited his kingdom from Alexander the Great, set up an idol in the Jewish temple and ordered Jews to worship it. He was a zealous Hellenist and wanted all people to follow Greek ways. A revolt led by Mattathias and his son Judah the Maccabee to overthrow Antiochus raged with the odds against the Jews; they were ill-equipped and vastly outnumbered. But the Jews were fighting for their homes, their faith and their freedom as the Syrian mercenaries were not. So, in the winter of 165 BC the Jews were victorious and marched into Jerusalem. The first act was to clean the temple and get rid of the idol. When they arrived, there was only a single flask of oil to light that should have lasted one day. It miraculously lasted eight.

Later, to commemorate the victory, candles were lit for eight days. There was an interesting dispute between the followers of Shammai and Hillel. Shammai advocated lighting the eight moving downward to a single candle. Historians believe Shammai basic view was that the glory of Israel lay in the past and there had been a steady downward trend among the Jews. Hillel’s followers foresaw a glorious future for Judaism. Symbolic of their faith and hope, they advocated a rising crescendo of light. Of course, they prevailed.

The basic issue of the Maccabean struggle was religious freedom. The Jews fought for their right to worship God in their own way. Not long after the victory, war broke out again, this time Judah was killed in battle and the new colossus, Rome, bestrode the Middle East. The Hebrew state was crushed until May 1948. It is interesting to speculate on what this victory of the spirit has meant in human history. If Judaism had been destroyed in the second century before Jesus, would Christianity have come into the world, or Mohammedanism? Both were products of Judaism and both derived sustenance from the living Jewish people.

On Tuesday a conference was held in Tehran to join in a united cry to dismantle Israel and to descry the Holocaust saying it never happened – one high profile American in attendance, David Duke, railed against zionist terror and murder – amazes me that my brother hired this man to host his radio talk show years ago – the SF Chronicle said Jew hires Duke making me glad I took my husband’s last name and was safely tucked into a North Beach apt 2400 miles away.

My brother said “hey, bizness is bizness” but the good news is that his 60th birthday is in January and he has mellowed a lot – the bad news is David Duke’s hatred has not – the conference is undertaking a study as I write to prove the Holocaust never happened.

I take it as a compliment that during my tenure at OTR some of the people in my group have referred to me as Jack Welch – not due to my corporate compensation package but rather the diverse landscape I have had to manage – from heavy equiipment to online advertising – but what I see as the similarity between Jack and myself is the coinage of “the naked truth” whereby Welch suggests the internet created a world where there is no more corporate privacy while I say there is no more personal privacy (QED, my blog) – more to the point, this has always been my philosophy – wouldn’t you rather narrate your own script then have the gossip mongers invent it from half truths and innuendo? I advocate full disclosure – you will sleep better at night knowing you said that about yourself first.

Julie Rhoem – who was a source I was cultivating at Chrysler got hired at Walmart and was soon dismissed for radical behavior according to them – it was a big scandal in the advertising community but the way I see it it is more of a scandal for Walmart who is losing share and revenue – know what I say? – good – I am not one of those bring the mighty down types but Walmart is a culture that is to me toxic and destructive – today listening to the bartender in the airport tell everyone “I don’t own this bar so I am going home even though you want me to stay” made me think that small business owners rock – cause if I owned that bar I would have seen opportunity and I would have foregone a comfortable evening at home to serve and to receive – so the Walmarts of the world who have killed off the mom and pops should face a slow malignant death in my opinion and the entrepreneur should rise again!!!

Who picks Chicago as a central meeting point in December???, she asks from her hard plastic airport chair.

Bartender at MSY has a crowd who is exhibiting panic when she says she is closing down – knows our flight is two hours past last call – her retort: New Orleans is operating at 50 percent capacity since Katrina – do you know someone who wants a job?

Tuesday, a day with no margin for error – I had to bring nine ceiling fans to the LaLa because the electrician decided he will come tomorrow and needs the fans – so went and got handtruck and as I was bringing the second load of them down and negotiating doors and elevators I said to myself, self, where is a man when you need one? and John appeared to hold the last door open.

Then I got a call that my flight was cancelled to Chicago. I was meeting a colleague to drive into city for a juicy steak and glass of champagne but no – now I was frantically trying to find another flight – found one then found out it was delayed by two hours putting me in chicago after dinner.

On my way to the airport, now with somet time to kill, stopped by LaLa only to learn the rain that came unexpectedly proved the leak is real and it is coming from the window manufactured in California – call to mfg yielded not much but to call Richard here and have him undo window and reglaze! BUT he can’t do it for two weeks!

Then the next bomb – Steve walks me outside and says, um, the cabinets that go floor to ceiling in the master bath are 4 inches too tall – same as the ones over the fridge – Steve said next time never do the cabinets till the house is built out – I said, dude the ceiling and floor haven’t changed.

So then drop off the Bean at the pokey and have to be accused of murder by the look on her face.

Get to the airport and find out flight now delayed by three hours and go to sit in gate and read through advertising journals and it is so cold I give up and head to the bar where a coffee and Baileys is all I want BUT they are out of coffee so she sends me down the terminal – which I do – and finally I am sitting with my blackberry and a cocktail and all I can think is that I want to be seeing the Black Keys instead of bellying up to the airport lounge tonight.

Murphy must be exorcised from the LaLa and possibly my life!!!!

American called cancelling my flight and offering another that gets in after midnight after circumventing the planet. I booked United which was supposed to leave at 4 but now 6:30 but who really knows. Chicago, here I come, hopefully.

M, the interior painter, who has had some brushes with the law lately and is ill-tempered or sweet depending on his level of toxicity – I gather – I don’t know for certain – started giving me the yessa massa routine today when I asked him to paint the ceiling before the electrician got there tomorrow to hang the fans. “It’s your house, mam,” he said.

Yes, it is my house, I told him, and I am asking him to paint the ceiling – “You have something to say to me, say it now, bring it on.”

No mam, just saying I’ll get to the ceiling, mam.

Good god.