The House with No Christmas Lights

“The House with No Christmas Lights” by Adam Lazarus

Mine is the house with no Christmas lights.
It’s the only dark house on the street.
I’m Jewish you see,
So it’s not meant to be.
During Christmas my house can’t compete.

Most people’s houses have Christmas lights.
Not mine. Though I never knew why?
So what I’m a Jew?
All my lights could be blue
In the shape of a dreidel or chai.

I’ll just call them lights, not “Christmas lights.”
And I won’t have a Santa or sleigh.
There’ll be no reds or greens,
Or nativity scenes,
But my menorah will blow you away!

People don’t realize that Christmas lights,
They’re really a Hanukkah thing.
The Yule stole the rights,
To our “Festival of Lights”,
And now my home’s dark until Spring.

So mine is the house with no Christmas lights.
It’s the only dark house on the block.
No reindeer. No elves.
You can see for yourselves,
When you go on your holiday walk.

Yes, mine is the house with no Christmas lights.
During Christmas we Jews take a breather.
Sure, without light
Our house ain’t as bright,
But we don’t get those Carolers either!

Copywright - Adam Lazarus 2008

A Jewish Christmas

Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Kickass Kwanza! Terrific Tet! Beautiful Bodhi! Whatever you celebrate, have a happy one!

And for my politically correct or agnostic friends…have a Content Non-Denominational Winter Season!

Every year I send out this poem and it’s become an instant holiday classic like “The Night Before Christmas”, egg-nog and wearing ugly-ass sweaters. So enjoy this little tongue-in-cheek poke at Christmas from a Jewish boy’s perspective.

"A Jewish Christmas" by Adam Lazarus

Christmas comes but once a year. For me that is enough.
You see, I am a Jewish boy which makes things kind of tough.

Hanukkah is nice and all, but c'mon let's be real.
It ain’t hard to see we got the raw end of the deal.

All my friends are Christian folk, but since I am a Jew,
There are fun traditions that I never get to do.

I don’t hang my ornaments upon a Christmas tree.
There’s no stocking stuffed with love for Hebrew kids like me.

Whose lap can I sit on with my list of games and toys?
St. Nick doesn't bring a thing for Jewish girls and boys.

Santa's giving Playstations to little Christian kids.
The Rabbi at my Temple's giving dreidels to us Yids.

I don't get to decorate my house with flashing lights.
No, I'm burning candles for eight so-called "festive" nights.

We don't sing 'bout decking halls or reindeers with red noses.
All we do is sit there and tell stories about Moses.

No one sends us fruitcake. All we get are macaroons.
We don't get the Grinch or other holiday cartoons.

Who wants greasy blintzes or a latke made from scratch?
I want ham and eggnog and some cookies by the batch.

I can't even send a card! The picking’s just too slim.
My friend always gives me the same card that I give him!

Our catalog of Hanukkah music isn’t very strong,
‘Cause other than that Sandler tune, we only have one song.

We don't go on sleigh rides and we don't hang mistletoe.
On December 25th we've got no place to go.

Chinese food and movies are a Jewish Christmas Eve,
When we wake the next day there’s no presents to receive.

Just give us a menorah and some candles and we're fine.
And if we want to party we add Manischewitz wine.

Listen, I like Hanukkah. I just think it’s funny.
They get wreaths and tinsel. We get chocolate covered money.

Hanukkah's a time to honor Judah Maccabee,
He taught Jewish people 'bout conserving energy.

Christians got the birth of Christ and we got something too.
The miracle of lasting light from one important Jew.

Now you know the story and the reason I complain.
Maybe now you Christians will begin to feel my pain.

I love being Jewish! But the goy have got us beat.
Hanukkah's just not as good, it really can't compete.

They can have this holiday, for we have many more.
Gentiles may get Christmas, but we Jews get Yom Kippur!

Tool Time With Logan

Emily’s wonderful cousins the Alexanders bought Logan a kids’ work bench and tool set about a year ago. I just now got around to setting it up for him. Here are some photos of me and my boy doing some father son bonding while I attempt to assemble this thing. Now I know why it took me a year to prep myself – it was one hell of an undertaking. I needed a real work bench with real tools in order to put together a “LittleTykes” work bench with toy tools. Go figure. The whole process took just under 4 hours to put together (3 hours of which was deciphering the Da Vinci Code-like instructions). Logan was involved for 7 minutes total but it was quality time together and the end result was wonderful.

Here are the photos of a guy with no ability to put things together, putting something together. Enjoy!

Father and son taking all the parts and pieces out of the bags. Dumping stuff out and making a mess was Logan’s favorite part. There were over 1,000 parts, many of which looked the same, and when the work bench was finally assembled there were still hundreds of leftover pieces. Is that bad?

15 minutes into it and I’m already confused. Notice the concentration on my face, the tool in my hand ready to be put to use and my son Logan looking on thinking “I could’ve had three of these built by now. C’mon pops!” The problem were many: the directions were in Deutsch or Finnish or something, the illustrations were so small it was impossible to make out the details and the entire time I had a 2 ½ year old repeating “Dad, is it done? Dad, is it done? Dad, is it done?” in my ear while smacking me with the toy tools (which DO still hurt when you take one to the face by the way.)

30 minutes into it and I’m ready to kill myself. Too bad this was a toy drill or else I may have ended it right then. There were 39 steps in total! 39! There weren’t that many steps to follow when I assembled his crib! But there WERE just as many left over parts…now that’s bad, right? I better check on that. Thankfully Logan “talked me off the ledge” by hitting me as hard as he could in my crotch with a toy Allen-wrench. No they don’t hurt as bad as a real wrench does, something I have experienced before, but it still packs quite a wallop. My eyes were teary.

Finally we get a few key pieces together and it’s starting to resemble the picture on the box. Sort of. No joke, it took at least 30 little screws to attach these legs. And after painstakingly screwing each one in I realized the legs were backwards while screwing the last one in. Did I spend the extra hour to unscrew all of them and start again to make it perfect for my son like any good dad would do? Hells no! I screwed the last one in and just hoped that no other parts relied on this one being correct. As long as Logan doesn’t lean on it or put anything heavier than a can of tomato paste on it than we’re golden.

Logan and I consulting the directions for the 50th time. The manual read like nuclear reactor blueprints and were impossible to follow: “Insert the light tan A-beam into the corresponding beige A-hole and blah blah blah.” (Hahaha, A-hole.) It was worse than when I put together our TV stand from Ikea (which does wobble pretty badly whenever you change a channel.) But this is just a toy! Why does it have to be so complicated? Better yet, why am I so stupid that I can’t assemble a toy? Logan seemed to understand it very easily though and had to explain it to me…

…but the boy also spent the majority of the time playing inside the box, so what does he know. Seriously, forget the toys. Some company should come up with kids “toys” that are nothing but corrugated boxes and bubble wrap. That’s all they like anyway. You open up the box and guess what’s in it? A box! Oh boy! It would keep ‘em entertained for hours and cut holiday gift giving costs as well.

Here is the completed project! The Craftsman Work Bench and Toy Set by LilttleTykes. Sure there were a lot of pieces left over, it shimmies a little when you walk by it and there is a pronounced lean to one side…but it’s done. And look how happy Logan is? He doesn’t care that it’s a half-assed job. What’s the old saying? Any job worth doing is worth doing fast? Yup, that’s my credo. Plus, it’s a tool set/work bench so part of the fun is for Logan to fix it himself right?

Now the fixing begins! There was a lot of screwing, banging and sticking things in holes. (Get your minds out of the gutter people.) But seriously, Logan LOVED playing with this thing. He was like a real handyman and was fixing things all around our house – things I’ve been neglecting for months. The light in our hallway now works, the toilet’s stopped making that hissing sound and the front door doesn’t squeak anymore. He’s very authentic too - he doesn’t speak great English, takes his sweet-ass time and even has a beer gut in the photo on the right. All he needs is a dirty pickup truck and a yellow page ad and he’d be in business.


Many, many loud hours and many “projects” later Logan is still having fun. Next to a drum set though I’m not sure you can get a more earsplitting toy than a work bench. Every little part made loud tool noises and it encourages hammering and loud banging as play. I’m guessing “Baby’s First Jackhammer” or the “Lil Jet Engine Playset” were sold out so this was the only toy available? What did we ever do to our cousins to deserve this evil noisemaker? Just kidding, it’s a great toy but wow, the racket was relentless. But at least our house is fixed up just in time for us to sell it.

This is me after hours of the aforementioned noises. Unfortunately this was only a fake staple gun. Apparently little kids do a lot of fake stapling and need a fake staple gun in their tool set. (Fake staples sold separately.)

This is the best photo of them all as it captures Logan in true handyman form! Bent over showing the world the ol’ plumbers crack! PERFECT! To complete the effect he also smelled like turpentine mixed with instant coffee and cigarettes and told us he’d be back to finish sometime between 9am and 4pm. He even left us an invoice for $150 for 3 hours of work. If school doesn’t pan out for him he’ll have a successful career as a handyman. He’s definitely got the mind (and the crack) for fixing things!

Hope you enjoyed tool time with Logan. We’ll see you soon!

All our love,
Adam, Emily, Logan, Sawyer and Bob the Fish.

Ode To Turkey

A Thanksgiving classic by me...

"Ode to Turkey" by Adam Lazarus

Turkey, you are just the best,
With your juicy legs and breast.
Dipped in gravy, you're so great,
Piled on my dinner plate.

White meat, dark meat, doesn't matter,
Served upon your silver platter.
Filled with stuffing, hot and yummy,
Can't wait 'til you're in my tummy.

Turkey, with your golden hue,
I think I'm in love with you.
Basted in delicious spice,
Every bite of you tastes nice.

I like you with pumpkin pie,
Cranberries in large supply,
Potatoes, whether mashed or sweet,
Make my turkey meal complete.

On Thanksgiving every year,
You fill up my day with cheer.
Stuffed and cooked then carved to eat,
Turkey, you can not be beat.

Back since Pilgrims had their feast,
Turkey, you have never ceased.
No one loves you more than me,
You're my favorite type of "key."

Yes, I'm sad you met your end,
For this holiday, my friend.
But you made so many smile,
That it seems to me worthwhile.

This year I'll eat all I can,
Turkey, I'm your biggest fan.
You're the best, in every way,
I give thanks for you this day.

Halloween Lazarus Style

Here’s hoping your Halloween holiday was happy! Wow, that was hard to say. Halloween for the Lazari this year can best be described as…exhausting. Between trying to sell our home in the worst market ever, hectic work schedules, two little ones that require a lot of attention and a month where all of us were sick at least once, I’m glad Halloween is over. But we had fun! Here is our Halloween play summed up in three acts. Enjoy!

ACT 1 – THE PICKING

Our annual tradition of wild pumpkin picking continues. Daddy and son take the long walk to find the perfect pumpkin. And I emphasize the long part. There are quite literally thousands of pumpkins in this patch and Logan wanted to look at all of them. He inspected each one quite thoroughly to find one that he deemed perfect. He kept saying, “No, too smashed” or “No, too ugly” or “No, too orange.” Too orange? How can a pumpkin be too orange? It was fun and funny, but frustrating. It took over 21 hours but we finally found the perfect pumpkin!

Notice his reaction when he finally found the perfect pumpkin! He was so elated. It was nice and round, not “smashed” or “ugly” and apparently just orange enough for his liking. Now the hard work of extracting it from the earth and hauling it to the car begins.

First Daddy and Logan tried to cut the sucker from the vine but I was too weak from all the hours of pumpkin searching, plus I hadn’t eaten any breakfast. Not to mention that I’m a weakling. So I defaulted to the brains, beauty AND brawn in the relationship…

MOMMY! With a flick of the wrist she lopped the pumpkin right off! (But I loosened it for her.)

Posing with the perfect pumpkin. There’s Logan, Mommy and a big, smelly hollow fruit, known affectionately as Daddy. (Sawyer stayed home that day….lucky bastard.)

Then…tragedy strikes! While walking back to the wheelbarrow with his precious pumpkin prize in hand, Logan dropped the gourd on the hard ground causing it to crack and roll into a little gulley…exhausted and upset, we had to repeat the entire process again.

Logan was so upset over the loss of his pumpkin pal that we decided to buy him over 50 more pumpkins to equal the one perfect one we lost. Here is Logan posing with over $1,400 worth of Halloween happiness. The things we do for our kids.

Okay, so we didn’t buy 50 of them, but we did fill our trunk with more pumpkins than any one family needs…unless you’re a Mormon family or a family who really likes pumpkin pie. And I like pie. So I got a trunk full!

ACT 2 – THE CARVING

Emily loves pumpkin carving. I do not. She likes to spend hours doing intricate patterns and complex images using a pumpkin as her palette. Me? I write BOO on the outside in black marker and then after my wife goes to bed I go outside and add another B to the end of the word I wrote. BOOB! Haha, c’mon, it’s funny! But not Emily. Boob doesn’t work for her. She loves to carve and wanted Logan in on the act.

But Logan wasn’t that into it. Problem was, a) he’s a toddler so he has no attention span and b) he absolutely would NOT put his hand inside the pumpkin. No matter what we said he refused to touch the pumpkin guts. He didn’t like the gooey texture, the smell or the fuzzy pumpkin innards. Emily’s been changing several bad diapers every single day now for over 2 ½ years, she’s dealt with gooey, smelly innards way grosser than any pumpkins, so for her it was a vacation. While mommy scooped, Logan spent the time mixing around the seeds and kept saying they looked like teeth.

Here’s a nice shot of Logan using a precision pumpkin cutter (with Mommy’s help of course.) But when Daddy said “Smile for a picture!” no one was paying attention and Logan almost sliced mommy’s finger off. Mommy’s a dentist and needs those fingers. No one likes a 9 fingered dentist; it’s just plain weird when a dangly fingered glove nub is in your mouth while you’re in the dentist’s chair. Thankfully for Mommy and her patients, all digits remained intact.

After about an hour of intense carving (of which Logan participated for maybe 2 minutes) our pumpkin was officially carved. Logan named him “Jacko Lantern”, very original. He loved his little pumpkin friend. He said hi to him every day before Halloween. But now Halloween is over. And yesterday we had to throw Jacko away because he was starting to stink something fierce and devaluing our already devalued home. Logan was not happy. Until I showed Logan what Jacko looked like inside, all black and furry and smelly and gross with little thingies crawling around. Logan saw how nasty it got and said “Ewww, throw him in the garbage now please! Jacko is yucky!” Pumpkin love is fleeting I guess.

ACT 3 – THE TRICKING AND/OR TREATING

For months Logan knew what he wanted to be for Halloween. Not a ninja or superhero, not a cowboy or Sponge Bob, not a monster or ghost. He only wanted to be a cow. Yes, a cow. So we dressed Sawyer like a chicken, Emily was a sheep and I went as a farmer. This is what Halloween looked like on our farm.


Usually it’s cold here for Halloween but this year, it was 90 degrees. Sawyer’s costume was made out of wool or something, so needless to say he was in his costume for 5 minutes. Enough to snap a few pictures and than it was back to diaper only. But before he started freaking out from overheating, we snapped this photo and its great. What a friggin’ cute chicken huh? What’s NOT cute though are the hairy farmer arms in the background.

Logan’s costume was also quite warm but he LOVED his cow costume more than anything. He’d still be wearing it today if we let him. His was thicker and hotter than Sawyers and he was sweating worse than Mike Tyson at a spelling bee yet he refused to take off his cow costume at any point that evening. He wore it with pride and honor as seen here…keep in mind this photo was taken at 3pm on Halloween eve.

Logan wore the costume in his carseat on our way to that night’s trick or treating festivities, still refusing to remove any part of his cow getup. Other drivers loved seeing him and whenever he had the opportunity, he’d “Mooooooo!” for them. It was hilarious.

Here he is, mid-moo.

Logan and a few friends primed and ready for an evening of trick or treating. Spidergirl, a cow and a butterfly. There were also pigs, lions, killer whales, penguins, biker boys, witches and one little boy who was dressed up like a priest. Ironic huh?


All smiles at 6pm despite Logan losing 9 lbs. of water weight due to the stifling costume. He was wet with sweat, we felt like awful parents, and tried to get him to take the cow suit off, yet the boy flat out refused to remove the outfit. Whenever we tried to cool him off, he just got angry. And no one wants to mess with a mad cow.

Trick or treating with a toddler, and his friends, is more work than fun. They grab handfuls of candy, want to eat it all immediately, cry when they can’t, trip and fall over their costume, get frightened easily by the people dressed in scary costumes, whine about their feet hurting and then want to be carried the rest of the night. But here is Logan and his friends trick or treating at Logan’s Mamie’s house. (Mamie is Ellen, his grandma.) She’s dressed like a mouse. Mamie Mouse.

Here is Logan stealing yet another piece of candy from his bag mid-trick or treat. I caught him on film this time! Since he’s got a nut allergy I had to confiscate and consume all Snickers bars, Almond Joys, Butterfingers, Reeses, etc. he was given. I must have eaten 40 candy bars in a span of 2 hours. But that’s what dads do. They sacrifice themselves for their children. And by sacrifice I mean steal all the good candy for myself and devour it on the walk from the house’s front door down the driveway where Emily is waiting on the street. I shared none of them with her. See, I didn’t want her to “suffer” either. I am a man of honor. A very fat, hungry man of honor. (Note: It is now 6 hours after putting on his costume, Logan is drenched with sweat, high on sugar and tired from walking yet STILL refused to remove his cow costume.)

Finally…close to 9pm…a good 6 hours, 40 houses, 5 lollipops, 216 “Moooooos!”, 3 trips and falls and 2 tantrums after first putting the cow costume on, Logan decides to rest, at least remove the headpiece and enjoy another well deserved lollipop. He was quite a trooper. He is tired. He is sweaty. He has a bad diaper, I’m guessing. He’s done and he’s, he’s, he’s…putting a lollipop in his hair! Nice.


So that was our Halloween in three acts! Hope yours was as fun, as exciting, as exhausting and as memorable as ours. Until next time…

Adam, Emily, Logan & Sawyer