Lessons from saying Kaddish....

There are three times during the Jewish year -- 5 Nisan, 2 Tammruz and 29 Cheshvan -- when my mind takes a break from grading papers, shaking my head in disbelief at what some municipal officials do, and if, in fact, this is the Cubs year, to say Kaddish.

Kaddish, for those of you outside the Tribe (we're not talking Cleveland Indians here...), is the centuries old tradition in Judaism of remembering someone who has died by saying prayers of remembrance.

And so it was this past weekend when I said Kaddish for my dad -- it's the 22nd year in a row I've done so. And as I reflected on my dad, there were two bits of wisdom he always told me.

1. Don't upset your mother.
2. Never burn bridges.

The first one was easy -- heck, when you're the only so in a Jewish household, you're in good shape.

The second always made sense, especially as I have gotten older (please note -- that's older, not old).

Experts in gerontology may be able to explain, but it seems as though as someone gets older, they become more understanding and rational. So it seems to me. My once "storm the Bastille" days have ebbed and I take into consideration the whole scope of events around me.

Even Buffalo Grove Village Board meetings.

It seems to me that my dad, never one for political activism, would cringe if he attended a meeting in the house of the large buffalo head. Why? Not because he would want to dance at eSkape -- his generation danced at the Chez Puree -- but because he would see so many bridges being burned with little effort to repair them.

There are those who have tried to repave the roadway and get the bridges back in working order. My dad, as he got older, knew when to pick his battles -- but that's a different story. He knew what it was to be a tough kid from the South Side of Chicago -- one who played high school football under legendary coach, Ellie Hasan and would have played college ball had it not been for World War II.

But those were younger days. I'm never sure what transformed him into a philosopher of sorts, but reflecting on it, there's a lot of sense to it.

The atmosphere at Monday's board meeting was different -- perhaps because the agenda was seemingly light, perhaps because Village Manager Bill Brimm took some badly needed and well deserved time off, or because it was the first meeting after the fiasco held March 22.

I've blogged about that meeting and what went on. You can decide who was at blame. But if we're talking about bridges being burned, it does not take a rocket scientist to figure it out. I've always said that to every action, there's a reaction.

When bridges are burned, destroyed and ripped out of their foundation, don't expect colleagues to be the first in line to rebuild. What is needed now is a massive reconstruction project -- to repair the damage done to Board, the staff and the village as a whole.

The atmosphere at Monday's morning seemed to have folks on egg shells. That's not conducive to responsive government. There was one tense moment, which came during a statement read by Village President Elliott Harstein for trustee Jeff Braiman, who was suffering from laryngitis, that almost set off yet another exchange of heated comments (see related blog entry), but was quickly defused.

The bottom line is the Board meetings, thanks in part to some bridge burning, have focused on reaction as opposed to action. Kudos to those Board Members who have maintained focus on the issues facing the village as a whole. In some way, shape, or form, there's enough blame to go around. Some carry more, a lot more, blame than others.

Don't tell me about numbers, don't tell me about who my friends are and don't tell me what has been in the media.

Tell me how you're going to stop burning bridges and repair the damage so the village can move forward.

Somewhere my Dad is laughing and hopefully proud -- I seldom upset my mother, and I've learned not to burn bridges.

The Village Board should do so well.