Lunch Ticket
  • Current Issue
  • Archive
    • Issues Archive
      • Issue 26: Winter/Spring 2025
      • Issue 25: Summer/Fall 2024
      • Issue 24: Winter/Spring 2024
      • Issue 23: Summer/Fall 2023
      • Issue 22: Winter/Spring 2023
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
      • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
      • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
      • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
      • Issue 2: Winter/Spring 2013
      • Issue 1: Spring 2012
    • Genre Archive
      • Creative Nonfiction
      • Essays
      • Fiction
      • Flash Prose
      • Interviews
      • Lunch Specials
      • Poetry
      • Translation
      • Visual Art
      • Young Adult
  • About
    • Mission Statement
    • Lunch Ticket Staff
      • Issue 26: Winter/Spring 2025
      • Issue 25: Summer/Fall 2024
      • Issue 24: Winter/Spring 2024
      • Issue 23: Summer/Fall 2023
      • Issue 22: Winter/Spring 2023
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
      • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
      • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
      • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
      • Issue 2: Winter/Spring 2013
      • Issue 1: Spring 2012
    • Achievements
    • Community
    • Contact
  • Weekly Content
    • Friday Lunch Blog
    • Midnight Snack
    • Amuse-Bouche
    • School Lunch
  • Contests
    • Diana Woods Award in CNF
      • Issue 26: Winter/Spring 2025
      • Issue 25: Summer/Fall 2024
      • Issue 24: Winter/Spring 2024
      • Issue 23: Summer/Fall 2023
      • Issue 22: Winter/Spring 2023
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
      • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
      • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
      • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
    • Gabo Prize in Translation
      • Issue 26: Winter/Spring 2025
      • Issue 25: Summer/Fall 2024
      • Issue 24: Winter/Spring 2024
      • Issue 23: Summer/Fall 2023
      • Issue 22: Winter/Spring 2023
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
    • Twitter Poetry Contest
      • 2021 Winners
      • 2020 Winners
      • 2019 Winners
  • Submissions
  • Search
  • Menu Menu
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • X

Musings of the Season

November 24, 2017/in Blog / Diane Gottlieb

It’s that time again. We’re coming up on the holidays. Leaves have fallen, blanketing the lawn in warm shades of yellow and red; Christmas lights are aglow. Tumultuous 2017 is edging toward its close, the promise of another year on the horizon. Joy to the World!

For some reason, I’m just not feeling it.

It’s not because I’m turning fifty-seven this December, taking one further step beyond the midpoint. For the most part, I am in love with my age. I feel good in my skin, lines and all, and care less about what others think of me, a freedom I fully embrace. I no longer need to wear false modesty, as younger women are often taught that they must. I can sing my own praises—and own my faults and mistakes. I do have a couple; I have made many. Just ask my kids.

My general sense of malaise is not personal. It’s bigger than I am. Much.

I’m suffering today from what I call my cultural mourning—a mourning for the beautiful, spiritual, and sometimes maddening culture of the Eastern European Jew. My mom grew up in the Old City of Jerusalem, but her family hailed from Russia. Her dad was a mystic, a rabbi who poured over the texts of the Zohar day and night, a Kabbalist seeking his path to God.

Mom was a small, powerful woman; she had tiny eyes that sparked great fire. She was sharp and quick and determined. She began studying philosophy in her seventies.

Dad was from Germany. He was a lucky one, who left before the doors to escape were forever sealed shut. Dad was handsome, oh so handsome; he was kind and dyslectic, and his grey-blue eyes held vast pain, great love, and always the hint of wonder.

My parents were of a time and of a culture, of Fiddler on the Roof, Eli Wiesel, and yes, Joan Rivers. There was prayer; there was song. Their culture had an insular nature—some of that was of their own choosing, some because they were never embraced. Their culture was one of resignation and hope, living precariously side by side. It was rich; it was poor, it was rhythmic—a culture that breathed its every breath as if engaging in a fight for survival. A culture of survivors. The youngest members of that precious group are now in their late eighties; how much longer will they survive?

*     *     *

I grew up in Queens, New York, in the ’60s and ’70s, amidst the Vietnam War, the Civil Rights Movement, Kennedy, Nixon, and King. Throughout the maelstrom of change, there was always the calming backdrop of my culture. We’d been here before. We’ve lived it all. And all would be okay.

I miss the music. The Yiddish. I miss the accents, the kugal, the jokes—I love that borscht belt humor. I miss the questions, the questioning, the deep discussion for discussion’s sake. I miss.

I, too, am what may be called a “survivor.” I was widowed at forty-two, left suddenly alone with three stunned children. I’ve had cancers (three of them to be exact), and I was sexually violated—#MeToo.

We all have a story to tell, if we live long enough.

We are all survivors—until we’re dead.

This past August, my husband and I (I remarried) went to see Judy Collins and Steven Stills in concert. Sweet Judy Blue Eyes is in her eighties. Mr. Stills, not far behind. The venue had an outdoor bar that was open before the show, so we went out back to grab a beer. There were women in long, flowered skirts, gauze tops, peace sign necklaces and beads, men in faded 60s-band t-shirts, over equally faded jeans. It felt as if we had stepped into a time warp, except time had not stayed still. Somehow, the Circle Game lyric had escaped many of our fellow concert-goers: “We can’t return, we can only look, behind from where we came…”

That night I felt deeply for another culture, the hippie culture, on its way out—still holding on for dear life. Why are we so afraid of change? Sometimes it’s time to let it go. Let another group take the stage.

*     *     *

I work full time as an English tutor and I’m just finishing my busiest season of work. Starting mid-summer each year, I become swamped with rising seniors who must face the dreaded college application essay. It’s so scary for most of them to reflect on who they are and on who they want to become. It’s delicious, though, this magical coming of age exercise, and I feel so honored to be my students’ guide. I love those kids, and their parents, and every fall, I am witness to a whole new flock of families getting ready to make adjustments to the nest. It’s bittersweet and it’s beautiful, and I realize how profoundly I’ve been blessed.

I am turning fifty-seven this winter, not ninety-seven. My friends are not dying off, even if their parents are. We’re at that weird place in life where we meet at funerals (our parents’) and weddings (our kids’) and at dinners in between. We see each other losing weight, gaining weight (even at our age, we can’t escape the weight carousel) and we watch each other age, gracefully of course, a few more wrinkles ’round the eyes, our brown hair, a little less convincing—although we’d never tell.

It’s fall now; it’s cold, and it’s dark. It gets dark so damn early in fall. Winter is just minutes away. But I’ve lived long enough to know that spring is sure to follow, no matter how long those lion’s days of March seem to want to linger. This turbulent year is edging towards its close—hallelujah—and a new one is waiting in the wings. I deeply miss those who have come before, and I am grateful for all those present. So, I hope you will join me in thanking God, or Goddess, or Nature, or Nurture, for life, for love, and even for change. Happy holidays to all. Have a happy, healthy New Year.

 

Diane Gottlieb is the sole proprietor of LongIslandEnglishTutor.com, a full-service English tutoring business that she started five years ago. She is grateful for the opportunity to combine her passion for working with kids of all ages with her love of all things English. She earned her MSW from Boston College and her MEd in Secondary English Education from Hofstra University. Diane writes both fiction and nonfiction and is currently working on a murder mystery with a social justice bent. She is an MFA candidate at Antioch University Los Angeles and lives in New York and Florida.

https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/fall-e1511463045965.jpg 400 300 Diane Gottlieb https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Diane Gottlieb2017-11-24 12:01:252022-02-09 12:06:21Musings of the Season

Friday Lunch Archive

  • 2025
  • 2024
  • 2023
  • 2022
  • 2021
  • 2020
  • 2019
  • 2018
  • 2017
  • 2016
  • 2015
  • 2014

Midnight Snack

Take a bite out of these late night obsessions.

Tonight’s bites:

Dig Into Genre

May 23, 2025/in Midnight Snack / Lauren Howard
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/Lauren-Howard-credit-Terril-Neely-scaled-773x1030-1.jpg 1030 773 Lauren Howard https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Lauren Howard2025-05-23 23:59:492025-05-20 16:45:44Dig Into Genre

The dreams in which I’m (not) dying

April 25, 2025/in Midnight Snack / paparouna
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/paparouna-photo.jpeg 960 720 paparouna https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png paparouna2025-04-25 23:55:312025-05-23 23:22:02The dreams in which I’m (not) dying

On The Map

March 28, 2025/in Midnight Snack / Ariadne Will
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/20220807-ariadnesaxt-MurielReid-01.jpg 1123 2000 Ariadne Will https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Ariadne Will2025-03-28 23:55:152025-03-31 11:49:32On The Map

More Midnight Snacks »

Amuse-Bouche

Little bites every third Friday to whet your appetite!

Today’s plate:

Tale of the resistant apple tree

June 6, 2025/in Amuse-Bouche / Tahar Bekri, translated by Patrick Williamson
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/06/TaharBekri.jpg 512 340 Tahar Bekri, translated by Patrick Williamson https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Tahar Bekri, translated by Patrick Williamson2025-06-06 11:00:072025-06-02 19:06:30Tale of the resistant apple tree

Talyshi Wall Graffiti and other poems

May 30, 2025/in Amuse-Bouche / Ghazal
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/Ghazal-headshot.jpg 867 590 Ghazal https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Ghazal2025-05-30 11:00:492025-05-30 06:09:09Talyshi Wall Graffiti and other poems

we don’t spend our lives in the belly of the fish

May 16, 2025/in Amuse-Bouche / translated from French by Gabriella Bedetti and Don Boes
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/headshot-translator-Gabriella-Bedetti.jpg 400 400 translated from French by Gabriella Bedetti and Don Boes https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png translated from French by Gabriella Bedetti and Don Boes2025-05-16 11:00:362025-05-14 17:05:21we don’t spend our lives in the belly of the fish

More Amuse-Bouche »

School Lunch

An occasional Wednesday series dishing up today’s best youth writers.

Today’s slice:

I’ve Stayed in the Front Yard

May 12, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Brendan Nurczyk
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/SL-Insta-Brendan-Nurczyk-2.png 1500 1500 Brendan Nurczyk https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Brendan Nurczyk2021-05-12 10:18:392022-02-01 13:24:05I’ve Stayed in the Front Yard

A Communal Announcement

April 28, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Isabella Dail
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/SL-FB-Isabella-Dail.png 788 940 Isabella Dail https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Isabella Dail2021-04-28 11:34:132021-04-28 11:34:13A Communal Announcement

Seventeen

April 14, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Abigail E. Calimaran
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/SL-Insta-Abigail-E.-Calimaran.png 1080 1080 Abigail E. Calimaran https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Abigail E. Calimaran2021-04-14 11:22:062021-04-14 11:22:06Seventeen

More School Lunch »

Word From the Editor

The managers of Lunch Ticket all agreed that issue 26 needed to have a theme, and that theme had a responsibility to call for work relating to what we are seeing in society. We wanted a theme that resonated with Antioch University MFA’s mission of advancing “racial, social, economic, disability, gender, and environmental justice,” and we felt it was time to take a stand…

More from the current editor »
Current Issue »

Connect With Us

lunchticket on facebooklunchticket on instaX
Submit to Lunch Ticket

A literary and art journal
from the MFA community at
Antioch University Los Angeles.

Get Your Ticket

We’ll keep you fed with great new writing, insightful interviews, and thought-provoking art, and promise with all our hearts never to share your info with anyone else.

Newsletter Signup
Copyright © 2021 LunchTicket.org. All Rights Reserved. Web design and development by GoodWebWorks.
Scroll to top