Al Azus has found his fountain of youth, and he’s not keeping it a secret. In fact, the 92-year-old philanthropist recently published a memoir whose title all but gives his formula away: “Live Longer by Giving.”
“Boomers [people born between 1946 and 1964] are the first generation in human history … to reasonably anticipate living well and wholesomely into their 80s and 90s, if not beyond,” sociologist Steven Cohen writes. “But not only are Jews (as others) living longer, they are living in an age of meaning-seeking, with the interest and wherewithal to make living a life of meaning an ultimate and reasonably obtainable objective for any point in their lives.”
As the Germans marched toward the tiny French hamlet of Autrans, 10-year-old Eva Perlman (nee Gutmann) watched as an obviously frightened 17-year-old boy fled from a sawmill into the woods. The Germans shot him on sight.
It was 1942, and the boy wasn’t even Jewish, Perlman says.
Jonathan, my older son, recently cradled our 7-year-old Cavadoodle in his arms and made dog-year calculations in his head. “I don’t think Pawsy is going to have children, because he’s 49 years old,” he said. Then he looked at me. “Although you had me when you were 46,” he added.
On a chilly Monday morning in late November, the sunlit patio outside Kip’s Toyland in the original Farmers Market was awash in anticipation. Reporters and city officials milled about, and passers-by with cameras hovered among the tables and chairs.
Ellen Stein is 58 years old but says she doesn’t feel like it. Indeed, Stein is a woman who seems to defy age — a competitive powerlifter who still wins meets against women born in decades when she was already well into adulthood. She is, to put it simply, a competitor, and neither age nor the improbable path that led her down the road to her sport have stopped her from proving that it’s never too late to start lifting heavy.
He sleeps while I sit by his side. Every so often, Dad wakes up, and looks with some confusion around his small room, at the hospital bed, the TV and the whiteboard where someone has printed in large letters: “Today is WEDNESDAY, Aug. 3, 2011. Your daughter Ellie is coming this morning.”
The evening began as the sunset performed like fine public art, sliding slowly behind a deepening blue and glowing orange Mediterranean Sea. Next door, the minaret of a long-abandoned mosque cast its shadow upon the ancient port below. Distant lights came alive in the soaring high rises of Tel Aviv.
Alfred Raider strolled up to the bimah when he was called for the third aliyah during a recent Shabbat morning service at Shaarey Zedek Congregation, an Orthodox congregation in Valley Village. After services, family, friends and fellow congregants gathered to join Raider for the Kiddush, which he hosted in celebration of his birthday and the 89th anniversary of his bar mitzvah.
About 40 seniors gathered in a sunny community room at Leo Baeck Temple on a Wednesday morning as Fredda Wasserman, adult program director of Our House: Grief Support Center, discussed the nuances of mourning the loss of a loved one. Many clutched tissues and dabbed at their eyes throughout the presentation.
Can you put a price on a good night’s sleep? Earl Kluft thinks so. But it will cost you. Kluft, 62, is CEO of the family-run E.S. Kluft & Co., and he made headlines last year with his king-size Palais Royale plush mattress, which sells at Bloomingdales and Macy’s for $33,000.
Jazz composer, cellist and pianist Fred Katz performed during a retrospective of his career at the Skirball Cultural Center on Feb. 20. Honored on the occasion of his 92nd birthday, Katz was joined by his son, flutist Hyman Katz, bassist Richard Simon and saxophonist Dave Koz, as well as the Flying Pisanos, John and Jeanne Pisano.
Elmore Kittower was 80 when he died in November 2007 at Silverado Senior Living, an assisted-living facility in Calabasas. His death was initially attributed to natural causes; at the time, a sheriff’s deputy told Kittower’s wife of 49 years, Rita, that her husband had “just stopped breathing.”
Birthdays with a zero have a special purchase on the imagination. Whether one turns 40 or 70, that zero marks a turning point, the end of an old decade and the beginning of a new one, a chance to take stock: what in Hebrew is called cheshbon ha-nefesh — literally, an accounting of your soul. And if that birthday takes place in Israel, where you once lived for years — and where you might have stayed, had you chosen to — you have a formula for cascading, competing visions of what was and what might have been.
Lillian Mizrahi is not your typical Peace Corps volunteer. She first considered joining 40 years ago, when she moved to Los Angeles from the Bronx, but her life became busy with children and a career.
My father understands unwinnable conflicts. He has been fighting a personal war against time since 1911. "Where does the time go?" he is likely even now to be wondering out loud to a stack of magazines and mail he has yet to get to, but will.
A Jewish grandfather from Melbourne won the world’s second-largest poker tournament.
Usually, Fryda Dvorak needs a cane to move around. But put her behind a pingpong table and you wouldn’t know it. Dvorak, 86 and living with early-stage Alzheimer’s disease, returns volley after volley with her confident lob, sometimes gritting her teeth in concentration as she reaches to hit the ball. She’s so focused on the game that she refuses to put the paddle down for a breather when her instructor, Irina, suggests they take a break.
The new building on Pico Boulevard and Veteran Avenue in West Los Angeles could pass as an upscale hotel in the heart of Hollywood, with its brightly painted exterior walls and angular balconies. Instead, the complex is the 17th addition to the collection of apartment buildings developed and managed by the Menorah Housing Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to providing low-income seniors with affordable, clean and convenient places to live.