Written by ChatGPT. Narrated by Michelle Tandler.

Tonight’s bedtime story is about what happens when you give a socialist a city.Not just any city — this city. New York.It’s a fairy tale.Except it’s real.Sleep tight.

Once upon a time, in the land of Gotham,There lived a boy-prince named Zohran.He wore sneakers to City Hall,And dreamed of abolishing it all.

He came from a kingdom of wealth and fame,But claimed oppression all the same.His father called Israel “the endgame of Nazism,”His mother made Bollywood films with great rhythm.

He’d never run a business or paved a street,But he had very nice shoes and liked to tweet.And one day, the people — tired and bored —Elected him mayor. (Or maybe just ignored.)

Mayor Zohran had a plan so grand:“To build a world with no cops and no jails in the land!”He slashed NYPD’s budget in halfAnd told all the burglars to “unlearn the craft.”

Shootings rose — just a little at first —Then the subway became a Hunger Games curse.But no one could complain, lest they sound “right-wing,”So instead, they just moved to New Jersey in spring.

In schools, he banned the Gifted and Talented test,Because it made some feel slightly less than the rest.He hired his friends to run every bureau,Even if all they’d run was a Marxist book club in SoHo.

They banned charter schools, canceled grammar and grades,Replaced gym class with chanting and decolonial charades.Parents protested — they begged and they cried —But Zohran said, “This is equity,” and the critics were fried.

Rents rose, of course — because no one built —And landlords were fined for the city’s guilt.Taxes soared and the subways stalled,And pretty soon, no one answered when 311 called.

Wall Street fled, and Midtown emptied.The bodegas closed. The pigeons wept gently.Even the rats filed for change of address,Citing “hostile urban working conditions” and stress.

At first, the city’s Jews tried to stay,But it got harder with each passing day.The mayor’s friends shouted “Free Palestine” at Shabbat,While graffiti of swastikas peppered the lot.

Hate crimes rose, but Mamdani just sighed:“Let’s understand the root cause,” he replied.So the Jews packed their bags, hopped in cabs, took the bridge,And joined their cousins in Tenafly or Scarsdale Ridge.

By year three, the budget was deep in the red,But Zohran still posted, “Capitalism is dead.”And though trash was piled up to the 10th floor,He tweeted, “My vision is worth fighting for.”

Meanwhile, in swing states from Scranton to Reno,Fox News ran nightly clips of Zohran’s debacles in vivo.Republicans swept the House and the Senate,And took the White House — and yes, they meant it.

And so, dear children, here ends our taleOf a city that flirted with a socialist fail.Goodnight, potholes. Goodnight, screams.Goodnight to all the progressive dreams.

Goodnight crime stats and broken schools.Goodnight to utopians and their Twitter rules.Goodnight cops, who moved to the South.Goodnight New York, gone quiet from doubt.

The YouTube version can be found here:

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A few months ago, I was driving to a pool party in Sonoma, California, chatting on the phone with a new guy friend. Somehow, the topic of sex came up—I can't recall why—and he shared something brutally honest, and frankly unsettling. "Yeah," he said casually, "if a girl doesn't sleep with me by the fifth date, I'm not asking her out again."

"Seriously?!" I responded, stunned. "What if you really like her? What if she wants to wait?"

He paused briefly, then replied: "Well, I figure she's already given it to someone else, so why not me?" The comment struck me as deeply transactional, as though buying dinner entitled him to her body.

Weeks later, still disturbed by this exchange, I stumbled across a YouTube video titled "How to Get Any Man You Want," by Orion Taraban, a psychologist with nearly one million subscribers. Curious, I clicked and was immediately confronted with a similarly troubling message: "In today's sexual marketplace, you have to allow yourself to be used, women, in order to get what you want. And you may need to allow yourselves to be used longer than you might expect." He doubled down: "If you like a man, if you're attracted to him, and you see a potential future, you need to throw the good stuff at him as much as you can as fast as you can."

Then, almost mocking hesitation, he added, "Withholding sexual opportunity doesn't work with men with a lot of options. If your diner is closed, your customers aren't going to wait—they're going to another restaurant."

I felt repulsed—and angry. Is this what dating has come to? And how exactly is this empowering for women?

In the weeks following, I asked my New York friends about these expectations. The consensus was clear: people typically sleep together somewhere between dates three and six. Before date three seemed too eager; waiting beyond six might signal disinterest or prudishness. The goal: quickly assess "sexual compatibility."

Something about this felt off—arbitrary, even transactional. Does it really take only three to six dates to determine true compatibility? Or is this just enough time to satisfy social norms, signaling that a woman isn’t "easy," yet not so long that a man loses interest?

This easy-come-easy-go attitude is especially pervasive in fluid dating markets like New York City. I’ve had male friends brag about sleeping with five women in a week; women openly discuss dozens of partners a year. What is the emotional and spiritual impact of all this casual sex? Was this really the goal of feminism and the sexual revolution—to create a culture where women anxiously monitor their phones after casual encounters, wondering if the guy will ever text back?

Spend any time on Facebook’s "Are We Dating the Same Guy NYC," and you’ll see countless women lamenting men who disappeared after sex on the second or third date. Women advise one another to wait a few dates, but rarely longer. Could Dr. Orion be right? If you don’t "give it up" quickly enough, do you price yourself out of the dating market?

But alternative views exist. Aleeza Ben Shalom, the renowned matchmaker featured on Netflix's "Jewish Matchmaking," offers a refreshingly different approach rooted in her cultural heritage, which emphasizes waiting until marriage. She recommends the "five-date rule": no touching whatsoever for the first five dates. "Physical touch is very confusing," she explains. "The five-date challenge just says, 'Hey, don't touch.' If you like each other after five dates, you've got two confirmations." She elaborates, "There's greater risk in early intimacy… we were physically intimate, and now I'm brokenhearted."

That last part resonated deeply. Countless friends over the years have come to me heartbroken over men who didn't want a relationship after early intimacy. Curiously, men rarely seem to share this heartbreak, which raises a critical question: whom exactly do these norms serve?

A Mormon graduate school classmate’s wife once shared with me, "If you want your boyfriend to propose quickly… hold out." Years earlier, my Hebrew tutor in college eloquently explained his own approach: "I'm shomer negiah—the belief is that your souls should become best friends before your bodies do." I found this beautifully profound.

Another famous matchmaker, Maria Avgitidis, promotes waiting at least 12 dates, arguing that early intimacy can obscure true compatibility. I recently mentioned this "12-date rule" to someone I met. He initially scoffed: "I'm not waiting that long—I have needs." I pushed back gently: "But if you wouldn't enjoy 12 non-sexual dates with a woman, do you genuinely want to date her? Isn’t it a good way to find out if you truly like her, versus just enjoying the sex?" After a thoughtful pause, he nodded. "You know what? I think you're right."

The point of this essay isn't to advocate strictly for the 12-date rule, the five-date rule, or any other rigid guideline. Nor is it meant to judge those who choose casual intimacy. Rather, my goal is to invite reflection on whether our current dating norms might carry overlooked consequences, such as bonding prematurely with someone whose core values or life visions aren’t aligned with ours. Perhaps it's worth softening our perspectives and recognizing wisdom in cultures that encourage us to wait until our souls align first.

In recent weeks, as I've explored the roots of liberalism, I've repeatedly encountered themes that emphasize individual freedom and personal happiness. Feminism, deeply rooted in liberalism, intended to liberate women—especially sexually—to empower them to choose freely without judgment. Yet, have we fully considered the emotional, relational, and spiritual costs of this liberation?

The sacred cow I'm investigating here is the widely held belief that early intimacy is inherently good—a necessary test of compatibility. The "right" time to wait, apparently between three and six dates, feels arbitrary rather than timelessly wise. This approach aligns with pleasure-seeking individualism, suggesting that waiting is oppressive or outdated.

Yet, the outcomes suggest that perhaps we should reevaluate this approach, or at least proceed with caution. Divorce rates hover around 50%. How many of those divorced couples spent significant time early on discussing their values -- money, politics, or spiritual beliefs — topics that deeply influence long-term happiness? Traditional couples often prioritize these conversations early, suggesting that genuine compatibility, rather than physical attraction alone, might better sustain relationships.

Ultimately, perhaps it’s time to pause and reconsider our cultural rush toward intimacy, acknowledging that true love, lasting connection, and aligned values might indeed be worth waiting for.

P.S. If you prefer to watch, you can find a recording of this essay on YouTube here.

*Note: This piece was drafted with assistance from ChatGPT, which helped me quickly refine and articulate my points.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit michelletandler.substack.com/subscribe

I sit at my computer looking at the polls in disbelief. According to recent surveys, New York City Democrats seem poised to select a 33-year-old socialist as their pick for Mayor. Does New York really want to risk Zohran Mamdani’s brand of progressive governance?

New Yorkers would do well to look west for a cautionary tale. San Francisco recently elected progressive Chesa Boudin as its District Attorney, resulting in disastrous consequences. Under Boudin, crime surged, drug use exploded, and businesses shuttered their doors, fleeing a city increasingly defined by disorder and decline. Policies meant to promote social justice instead fueled chaos, emboldening criminals and leaving residents fearful and angry.

Ultimately, San Francisco voters revolted in a remarkable display of grassroots activism, as moderate citizens—initially bullied into silence—found their voices, rallied together, and took action. With strong support from influential community and tech leaders who funded and energized the effort, we successfully recalled Boudin. But this victory only came after substantial damage had already been done.

Zohran Mamdani’s socialist vision similarly threatens to plunge New York City into a dangerous experiment. Unlike San Francisco, however, which retained a relatively moderate mayor during its progressive experiment - New York under Mamdani would have few moderating influences. His proposed policies risk profoundly destabilizing the city. He advocates repurposing subways as homeless shelters, potentially exacerbating crime, safety concerns, and transit disruptions. He promises rent freezes, despite lacking the direct authority to implement them, offering voters something he likely cannot deliver, while signaling hostility toward landlords and developers who are critical to addressing the city’s housing shortage. This approach ignores New York’s own history, where the housing crisis of the 1920s was effectively resolved by incentivizing private market-rate housing construction, not stifling it. Policies similar to Mamdani’s have historically led to even tighter housing supply, higher rents on unregulated apartments, and deteriorating housing quality for all.

He also proposes taxpayer-funded, city-run grocery stores, a strategy with a long history of inefficiency and municipal failure. Notably, Mamdani is committed to spending tens of millions of taxpayer dollars on controversial programs such as publicly funded gender-transition care for minors, igniting fierce debates over parental rights and fiscal responsibility.

How would Mamdani finance these ambitions? By sharply raising taxes on businesses and the wealthy - precisely those who contribute the most to New York’s budget - and by significantly increasing municipal debt to dangerously unsustainable levels. Remember, the top 2% wealthiest of New Yorkers pay more than half the city’s income taxes. If these residents and businesses leave, who will foot the bill? And piling tens of billions in new debt onto the city’s already strained finances risks pushing New York towards a fiscal crisis reminiscent of the 1970s.

New York knows what happens when progressive idealism clashes with reality. We saw it in the 1970s, when the city spiraled into crime, debt, and dysfunction, only reversing course when pragmatic leadership finally restored order in the 1990s under Mayor Rudy Giuliani and Police Commissioner Bill Bratton.

Today, New York already leans far-left, with a city council dominated by progressive Democrats and virtually no Republican counterbalance. Mamdani, a social-media-savvy candidate endorsed by AOC, Bernie Sanders, and celebrity influencers, has struck a chord with young, educated voters frustrated by affordability and inequality issues.

But popularity among Gen Z voters does not equate to practical governance. History reminds us that good intentions alone do not keep a city safe, prosperous, or functional. If elected, Mamdani’s tenure will likely exacerbate New York’s existing struggles with antisemitism, public safety, and financial stability.

If he wins the election in November, I’ll stay here and do what I did in San Francisco - witness and document what unfolds. I’ll continue to engage, critique, and advocate fiercely for pragmatic solutions that ensure New York thrives.

But, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. New York has faced enough turmoil. This city deserves practical leadership, not radical experiments that gamble with its future.

~ Michelle

P.S. As an experiment, I recorded myself reading this piece aloud. The video is on YouTube here.

*Note: This piece was drafted with assistance from ChatGPT, which helped me quickly refine and articulate my points.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit michelletandler.substack.com/subscribe

“Did you know singing can physically change your brain chemistry?”

A few years ago, a friend mentioned this to me in passing. She explained that there is some scientific evidence suggesting that singing is beneficial for mood, stress relief, and overall happiness.

“It’s something about the diaphragm and vibrations inside your body,” she explained.

I raised an eyebrow in skepticism; it sounded a bit woo-woo to me. I nodded and smiled. She had taken up singing lessons. Who was I to judge whether or not singing could help her mood?

Fast forward a few years - I now attend synagogue almost every Friday night, and week by week, I find myself singing a little bit more. As the melodies become ingrained in my memory, it almost becomes hard not to sing. Even if it’s just a little “doo doo doo, doo doo do”—it rolls out of my mouth, and I do feel a vibration inside of me. Not only that, sometimes I feel little chills, or goosebumps on my arms. As the service progresses and the synagogue fills with everyone’s voices, something magical happens. It feels like we've become unified in song. I feel warmth in my chest, relaxation in my body, and a decrease in mental chatter. It doesn’t always happen right away, but about an hour in, I feel serene. The way I explain it to friends is that it's both relaxing and uplifting at the same time. Perhaps that’s what an espresso martini feels like? (I wouldn’t know—I’ve never had one.)

Curious about why singing evokes such wonderful feelings, I investigated the neurochemistry behind it. Singing, it turns out, releases endorphins—the brain’s natural feel-good chemicals—lifting your mood and melting away stress. Group singing has an added bonus: it boosts oxytocin, the hormone that promotes bonding, helping you feel deeply connected to those around you.

Singing also encourages rhythmic, deep breathing, reducing cortisol, the stress hormone. This means less anxiety and a calmer body and mind. And those diaphragm vibrations my friend mentioned? Deeper breaths activate your body's relaxation response, gently nudging you from stressed to serene.

Singing even benefits brain health, engaging multiple brain regions—memory, language, and emotion—all at once, enhancing mental sharpness and emotional balance.

A recent Wall Street Journal article highlighted a study showing that parents who regularly sang to their babies found their children calmer, happier, and less fussy. As the lead researcher put it, “Singing to your baby really works, and it’s a very chill thing to do.”

Since becoming more aware of how singing affects us, I've begun noticing it everywhere. There are signs in K-town advertising karaoke nights, groups gathered around musicians in Central Park singing Beatles songs together, toddlers in the playground chanting nursery rhymes, and choirs rehearsing in neighborhood churches, their melodies drifting into the street. I find myself humming more often, whether walking in Central Park or tidying my apartment. Melodies like “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” suddenly pop into my head, helping regulate my breathing, lift my spirits, and spread happiness around me (even if it's just to my dog, Ori).

So here is my proposal: if you’re feeling stressed or down, why not warm up those vocal cords and sing a song? What is the downside… really? And if you’re thinking, “But I don’t have a good voice,” -- trust me, it truly doesn’t matter. Singing isn’t about perfection—it’s about joy, connection, and feeling good. Your brain doesn't judge pitch, it just celebrates the music.

So, on that note (pun intended!), I’ll include here a link to my synagogue’s beautiful new Spotify album, 'Sing a Little More.'

Perhaps we could all sing a little more.

Shabbat shalom,

Michelle

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Dear Democratic Business Leaders of America,

My intention with this letter is simple: to encourage you to start charting a path toward running for office. Not tomorrow, not next year—but someday soon, maybe five or ten years from now, when you feel ready. Today, you might not feel prepared, but you could become exactly what America needs.

First, let’s talk stakes: One-party rule forever. MAGA. Need I say more..?

Right now, Republicans are actively recruiting and electing business leaders—Glenn Youngkin, Mitt Romney, J.D. Vance, even President Trump—people who have real-world track records of achievement and experience running complex organizations. Democrats, by contrast, keep nominating career activists, politicians, and insiders. It’s time for the left to embrace a new kind of candidate—leaders from the business world who understand pragmatism, results, and common-sense solutions.

I’m no longer a Democrat myself—partly because I’ve watched the party drift into the land of activists rather than pragmatic leaders. Today’s Democratic Party often seems ambivalent—or even openly hostile—toward the business community and corporate America. This anti-business tone alienates the very people who could solve problems with common sense and clarity. Imagine a Democratic Party that nominated proven builders like Mark Cuban, Marc Benioff, Sheryl Sandberg, Tim Cook, Brian Chesky, or Bob Iger—leaders who deliver results and inspire through achievement, not ideology.

It’s exactly why I’m such a fan of Whitney Tilson’s candidacy for Mayor of New York City. A pragmatic Democrat and former hedge fund manager, Whitney has spent decades building businesses, understanding complex problems, and delivering real solutions. (You can hear our recent conversation here.)

When I was in high school, my parents invited a family friend over to talk with me about my future. She was an executive at a prominent Bay Area company and also deeply involved in nonprofit leadership and boards.

Sitting on the couch in our living room, she told me, "You can have your day job and your nights-and-weekends job." Her hobby wasn’t tennis or gardening—it was giving back. By balancing corporate leadership and civic life, she became a beacon in San Francisco’s Jewish and philanthropic communities.

"This is my life philosophy," she explained: "Learn. Earn. Serve."

First, you learn -- in school, then on the job. Then you earn -- building income, credibility, a reputation. Ultimately, you serve. You give back to the community that has given you so much. Her message was clear to me: your sense of mission and meaning doesn’t need to come entirely from your primary career. You have more time every week than you think. You can always give back.

She embodied that ideal, and I've thought about her mantra ever since.

As someone who’s spent two decades immersed in tech and startups, I’ve seen firsthand the practical genius and capability of America’s business leaders. Imagine what could happen if even a fraction of those talented individuals dedicated themselves to public service.

America doesn’t need more activists thriving on outrage. It needs builders and candidates, running on results.

The question is, will you have the courage to step up?

Sincerely,Michelle

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This past weekend, I made every effort to avoid the #NoKings protest because I had a strong vision of what it would look like: Keffiyah scarf accessories, signs proclaiming Trump deserves to die, etc. Despite my intentions, however, I ended up in midtown, walking to the subway, and had to navigate a path across the protest. So there I was, at the protest. What I saw was disappointing, albeit not shocking.

As I approached, I heard a man screaming, “Trans lives matter! Black lives matter! Immigrant lives matter!” His voice was a blood-curdling scream, pitching into cracking, oozing with rage. I felt the desire to cover my ears. People screamed back. Signs everywhere proclaimed messages like “F**k the Feds” and “No one is illegal on stolen land.” Women wore hats that simply said “Abortion.”

I went home feeling thoroughly repulsed. While, on the one hand, I was pleased that the protest was peaceful (and hopeful participants let off some steam), I hung my head in sadness. The Democratic party—the party I grew up thinking I would be part of forever—has become characterized by fear and hatred, two extremely destructive emotions.

At home, with a few hours left of Shabbat, I opened my new book, Jewish Wisdom by Rabbi Joseph Telushkin. Chapter 28, “The Terrible Toll of Hatred,” contained relevant wisdom. Telushkin draws attention to the destruction of the Temple—one of the most tragic events in Jewish history. He cites the Talmud: “Why was the First Temple destroyed in 586 BCE? Because of three offenses committed by the Jews: idolatry, sexual immorality, and murder. But why was the Second Temple destroyed in 70 CE, given that Jews studied Torah, kept commandments, and performed charity? Because groundless hatred was prevalent. This teaches us that groundless hatred equals the three sins of idolatry, sexual immorality, and murder.”

Telushkin shares that when he studied at Yeshiva University, Rabbi Kreiser asked why the Temple was destroyed again, for a seemingly lesser sin. Kreiser answered that when people commit terrible crimes, as in the First Temple generation, an enormous punishment causes them to repent. But people guilty of groundless hatred never acknowledge their sin. “Ask them if they think it is wrong to hate their opponents and they will tell you why their adversaries are worthy of being hated.” Consequently, they never repent. Thus, we are still not worthy of having the Temple rebuilt.

He concludes the chapter by sharing a vivid medieval Jewish story that illustrates the destructive nature of hate: An angel appears to a man, promising to return in thirty days to grant one wish, with the condition that the man’s despised neighbor will receive double the wish. Unable to tolerate his neighbor’s gain, the man spends the month consumed by bitterness. When the angel returns, he says, “I wish for you to put out one of my eyes.”

Telushkin cites a Hebrew proverb to explain, “Hatred makes the straight crooked,” explaining, “People who hate don’t see straight. Describe a good act by a person they despise, and they'll explain why it's evil or ill-intentioned.”

I must say, I often see glimmers of this on the left. Sometimes, it seems no matter what President Trump does, it’s worthy of contempt and loathing. I’ll go a step further and say that among most people I know on the left, I don’t think I have ever heard a *single* comment of agreement or even basic respect for our President. When people are filled with so much blanket contempt, how can I take their opinions seriously? I do not see them as “thinking straight.”

People on the right often refer to this phenomenon as Trump Derangement Syndrome (aka TDS). While the term is funny at first glance, it becomes less funny when you accept the extent to which this “syndrome” has infected the modern Left. The Left is indeed filled with “derangement” vis-à-vis Trump. “Orange Man Bad” has become a rallying cry.

In my opinion, this is partly why the Democrats lost the election. Vice President Harris tried to embrace a theme of “Joy,” yet there was virtually nothing joyful emanating from her speeches. I watched her interviews repeatedly and observed that she could not stop spewing anger and hatred toward Trump. This can be mobilizing, but ultimately, hatred is neither attractive nor inspiring. It is negative, and it is dark.

People seek light, vision, and courage. They seek leaders who can show the path forward. It is easy to point out everything that is wrong. It is much harder to lead. And this is what I believe the modern Left needs more than anything right now - leaders with positive, practical messages on how they plan to make our country (and the world) a better place.

What is the antidote to hate? Rabbi Telushkin references the Babylonian Talmud, telling a story about a Rabbi whose neighborhood was troubled by criminals. He prayed daily for their deaths, until his wife Beruria challenged him. She encouraged him, rather than praying they die, to pray they repent and cease wrongdoing. Telushkin says this story corrects the common human instinct to pray for punishment on those who've hurt us. We should instead pray that they cease harming others, thus no longer deserving punishment.

I do not see this impulse to pray for redemption on the Left. Instead, I frequently see an impulse to hurt or eliminate Donald Trump. Even elected officials have posted imagery invoking violence against the President.

I’m sick and tired of hearing about our “fascist” and “tyrannical” president. These terms are being misused, thereby diminishing the credibility of those who employ them. While I disagree with many of Trump's actions—and I don't feel a particular warmth toward him—ultimately, as an American, I wish and pray for our nation to thrive.

We have a “No Kings” day in America—July 4th. That is when we celebrate our brave forefathers who fought and died to free us from the monarchy. To imply Trump is a “King” reveals more about the Left’s misunderstanding of history than anything else. Mussolini, Stalin, Hitler—these are leaders who turned on their people, committing atrocities beyond understanding. The fury I see today says more about the Left’s lack of positive vision than anything else. There is a vacuum of purpose and mission, and this vacuum is being filled with contempt.

Ultimately, people seek leaders who can illuminate a path forward. It is easy to sit in the back of the room and point fingers at everything wrong; it is much harder—and much more necessary—to offer solutions, hope, and inspiration. This is what I believe the modern Left needs more than anything right now: leaders who replace fear with courage, and contempt with compassion.

As the Talmud reminds us, hatred makes the straight crooked. It distorts our vision and clouds our judgment. My hope—and prayer—is that we can find leaders who help us, as Americans, to see clearly and move forward together.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit michelletandler.substack.com/subscribe

I’ve recently started writing with a new LAMY Pen. My French friend told me it’s what she and her classmates used in third-grade penmanship class. In America, we just used wooden pencils - perhaps that’s why my handwriting is so bad…

But let’s rewind… My adventures as a pen enthusiast began relatively early. When I was 13, studying for my bat mitzvah, my Rabbi loaned me his Pilot Precise V5. He had all the colors - purple, green, red, navy, and black in a cup on his desk. "It's all I use," he said. For 26 years, it was all I used too.

I used it all day, every day, throughout high school and college. It took notes, drafted outlines, underlined books... It took me through McKinsey, various tech jobs, and my MBA. In my thirties, when I read The Artist’s Way and started writing morning pages, that was the pen I used. I must have gone through hundreds by now. Many have exploded and died on planes. I cannot count the times I have arrived home in San Francisco, fingers stained with navy ink. These pens get used until they run out… while others sit untouched.

Over the years, I have tried many times to find an alternative pen. I’m a believer in change, after all. I would go into a stationery store and scribble on the little white strips. “No, not this one. Not this one either.” I would sometimes buy one out of guilt, and it would be added to the collection of pens on my desk that I never used. The V5 always reigned supreme. With it, I wrote more easily, with less cramping. Three pages without stopping, even!

However, over the years, after writing hundreds of pages of notes, or journal entries about disappointments in love and life, even my beloved Pilot started feeling a little… baggage’d. So when a new stationery shop opened in my neighborhood, I felt that old, hopeful pang—“Maybe there’s something inside I might like?”

I entered the shop and whipped out my phone.

“I’d like to find a new pen,” I told ChatGPT.

“I have used the Pilot Precise V5 Extra Fine Navy for as long as I can remember. I love it, but I am ready for an upgrade.”

ChatGPT spat out a list instantly: Uni-ball Signo, Pilot Hi-Tec-C, Pentel EnerGel… I tried pen after pen, each scribble disappointing. My hopes began to fall—another day stuck with my Pilot Precise.

But then I saw there was an addendum to the ChatGPT response. I held the phone up to my face closer.

“If you want a slight upgrade in feel or design… LAMY Safari Fountain Pen (Extra Fine nib) - sleek, contemporary design, precise line.”

Did I just read the words… upgrade? What was that about sleek, contemporary design? All these years, buying pens at Walgreens and CVS. All these years, my hand cramping, giving up on journaling when I have more to say… All the years of embarrassing chicken scratch, debating between handwriting or emailing the thank you card, the tired grip, the explosions, and stained clothes… There’s something that might be better, you say?

But a fountain pen? How stuffy! What do they even cost, $100?

I turned to the store clerk and asked. “Do you by chance sell LAMY?”

“Yes!” she replied. We went to the front, under the glass. I saw the price tag—$26.

“Twenty-six dollars?!” I blurted out loud. I'd always assumed fountain pens were absurdly priced—but here was an “upgrade,” for less than a Manhattan diner salad.

I held the pen. My hands immediately sank in. The flattened edges on the grip let my fingers rest gently. As I pressed the tip of the pen to the paper, ink flowed out perfectly. Not too thick, not too thin - a beautiful, smooth line. As my hand glided across the page, I found myself wondering, “Why did nobody tell me…?”

I bought it on the spot, and a pack of ink refills too.

Since then, I haven’t picked up a Pilot. Many pages into journaling this week, my hand hasn’t cramped once. At age 39, my first fountain pen has arrived—and it looks like the start of something beautiful.

Thank you for reading.

~ Michelle

Do you have a favorite pen…? Feel free to drop a suggestion below!

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My grandfather met my grandmother at a dance hall; he was 23, and she was 19. She was there with a date, but when the time was suitable (and my Grandfather had gathered his courage), he cut in.

“I cut in,” he would tell people. I must have heard the story 100 times.

“I went up to her and I asked, ‘May I have this next dance?’ She said yes.” He loved her deeply for the next 75 years.

What an incredible way to make a move. How often does a woman hear that question today? “May I have this next dance?” Frankly, I think many women would appreciate hearing those words.

What do those words signify? They signify - I want to hold you. I want to look in your eyes, and smell your perfume, and maybe even whisper something funny in your ear. I think it is a very gentlemanly thing to ask a woman to dance. You are asking to lead her while in motion. One wrong move and she could trip and fall…

Throughout my life, from childhood on, I dreamed of this happening to me. I dreamed of the day that a man would cross a crowded room to ask me to dance. I had it happen a few times at ballroom dance class in 6th grade. The experience was mortifying. Picture a line of 25 boys and 25 girls on opposite sides of a large, white-walled, brightly lit event space. The girls stand nervously, tugging at their white cotton gloves. The boys wipe their drenched palms against their suit pants. The boys had to cross the room to the line of ladies and ask them to dance. The parent volunteers stand by, watching. I am pretty sure that I would want to be that parent if I had kids in ballroom dance class. It sounds endlessly entertaining.

Fast forward to high school when “put your hands on the floor - boots with the fur - get low - and shake your tail feather ” was the popular music. At our high school dances, men would often dance together, sometimes even body slamming one another, while girls would dance in circles together as well. If they did dance together, it was this thing called “grinding” where the women would… Well, you get the picture. There was no waltzing, or swaying, or whispers in my ear. It was too loud for that, anyway.

Do we dance today…? At weddings and bar mitzvahs - sure. But what about on a Saturday night at someone’s apartment? Do people ever move aside the furniture, put on some music, and dance? I’m sure that in many places they do, but I don’t hear about it very often (or frankly, ever). Apparently, that whole “moving the furniture aside to dance” -- that used to be a thing.

Community dances, balls, socials - these used to be regularly attended affairs. They morphed into the disco, pop, R&B, and techno clubs of today. These clubs can be pretty enjoyable. I have spent many nights dancing until the wee hours to electronic and house music. I am a huge fan.

Dancing does something for the soul - and also for the mojo. When you move your hips and sway to the music, you connect with a part of yourself that is… sensual.

Dancing remains a prevalent practice in many cultures. Orthodox Jews are notorious for their boisterous single-sex dancing at weddings. The 20s and 30s crowd in cities often dances the night away at nightclubs. In many cities, there are salsa clubs and ballroom dance classes, although they tend to skew older. Regular dancing is not the norm these days. (Or am I mistaken…?) As far as I know, the days of “will you save me a slot on your dance card” are pretty much gone. Please, correct me if I’m wrong. (But if I’m not, why are they gone…?)

Last night I attended a transcendental dance event called 5Rhythms, a movement meditation practice designed to free the mind and uplift the spirit through dance. Imagine 50 people in a beautiful, dimly lit circular room with fans and a great sound system. Everybody letting free and dancing to their heart’s content. The music was extraordinary, led by a skilled DJ facilitator. Two hours in, every person in the room was lying on the floor, sweaty, exhausted, and moved.

Dancing is one of the most beautiful parts of being human. It enables us to connect, physically and emotionally, with music that lifts our hearts and souls. If able to partake, what a blessing.

Perhaps tonight, we dance…

Thank you for reading. 🙏🏼

~ Michelle

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Hello everybody,

This is Michelle Tandler, and today is June 6th, 2025. This past week, for the first time in my life, I celebrated the Jewish holiday of Shavuot.

Reform Jews typically don't observe Shavuot, so it was entirely new to me. Shavuot commemorates the moment when Moses received the Torah, including the Ten Commandments, from God on Mount Sinai - a pivotal event in Jewish history. More observant Jews mark the holiday with all-night Torah study sessions and gatherings to hear the Ten Commandments read aloud. They also refrain from work. Orthodox Jews observe Shavuot for one day in Israel and two days in the diaspora.

I attended synagogue and heard the Ten Commandments read from the Torah. Though the holiday has passed, I thought I'd do something a bit unusual for today’s post and read the Ten Commandments aloud - in both Hebrew and English. (After all, they're public domain.) My Hebrew is a bit rusty, so I apologize in advance for any mispronunciations.

Shabbat shalom,

Michelle

P.S. Please note I read aloud a slightly shortened version. The full Hebrew is below.

English Version (shorter version):

1) I am the Lord thy god, who brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.

2) Thou shalt have no other gods before Me.

3) Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.

4) Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy.

5) Honor thy father and thy mother.

6) Thou shalt not murder.

7) Thou shalt not commit adultery.

8) Thou shalt not steal.

9) Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.

10) Thou shalt not covet anything that belongs to thy neighbor.

Source: Jewish Virtual Library

English Translation (longer version)

* I am the L‑rd your G‑d, Who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.

* You shall have no other gods before Me. You shall not make for yourself a graven image, nor any manner of likeness of anything that is in heaven above, that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them, nor serve them. For I the L‑rd your G‑d am a jealous G‑d, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children of the third and fourth generation of them that hate Me; and showing mercy unto the thousandth generation of them that love Me and keep My commandments.

* You shall not take the name of the L‑rd your G‑d in vain; for the L‑rd will not hold him guiltless that takes His name in vain.

* Remember the Sabbath Day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work; but the seventh day is a Sabbath unto the L‑rd your G‑d. On it you shall not do any manner of work—you, your son, your daughter, your man-servant, your maid-servant, your cattle, and your stranger that is within your gates. For in six days the L‑rd made heaven and earth, the sea and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day; wherefore the L‑rd blessed the Sabbath Day, and hallowed it.

* Honor your father and mother, so that your days may be long upon the land which the L‑rd your G‑d gives you.

* You shall not murder.

* You shall not commit adultery.

* You shall not steal.

* You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

* You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife, his manservant, his maid-servant, his ox, his donkey, nor anything that is your neighbor's.

Source: Chabad.org

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A few years ago, I had dinner with a friend and his parents, both self-avowed socialists who were passionate about their beliefs.

At the time, I had rececently been working at a tech company that served local service professionals. A few months prior, I had attended a conference in Vegas dedicated to plumbers, electricians, and HVAC technicians. As we sat down to dinner at my apartment, I asked my friend’s father, “Did any of your friends from growing up go into the skilled trades?”

“The skilled what?” he asked.

“Skilled trades. You know, plumbing, electrical work, roofing.”

“Oh no,” he replied casually. “Nobody from our class did that.”

Nobody from our class. What a revealing comment.

A flash of anger surged through me. My heart quickened. The comment was deeply off-putting—offensive, even. Here I was, dedicating countless hours to support people whose physically demanding labor ensures we have running water and functioning toilets. Yet, this professed socialist saw plumbing as low-class, beneath himself and his peers.

What frustrated me most was the hypocrisy. This man had enjoyed an incredibly privileged life -- wealthy upbringing, private schools, a comfortable career leading a nonprofit funded by affluent friends. Had he ever genuinely interacted with working-class people? What exactly did he mean by “our class”? Isn’t socialism supposed to eradicate class distinctions?

Since that conversation, I’ve become curious about how the left views the working class. When my liberal friends discuss their politics, they often emphasize helping “the poor.” But who exactly do they envision? Do they mean electricians and housekeepers—or are they thinking mainly of the homeless, mentally ill, or disabled?

Many liberals I know pride themselves on being compassionate, yet they often seem detached from the daily realities of working-class life. Few volunteer regularly, and fewer still give substantially to charity. Their social circles tend to be mostly college-educated, white-collar professionals. Often, their political outlook boils down to a simple belief—that higher taxes and government programs automatically help "the poor."

But history shows something different. Most meaningful improvements in our standard of living—better jobs, higher wages, cheaper goods—have come primarily from entrepreneurship, innovation, and the free market, rather than from government intervention or higher taxes.

Take indoor plumbing, for example. It wasn’t created by government decree. The pipes and fixtures we use daily were developed by entrepreneurs, pipe-makers, and plumbers—people who built businesses, solved problems, and created jobs.

When indoor plumbing was first introduced, only wealthy people could afford it. But over time, through innovation, competition, and market forces, it became affordable for virtually all Americans. Today indoor plumbing isn't a luxury—it's a standard expectation, even among working-class households.

Many leftists overlook these historical truths, defaulting to beliefs, like "trickle-down economics don’t work," or stating that the world “doesn’t need another billionaire.” They seem to forget that lasting improvements in people’s lives generally stem from job creation and economic growth, forces that rarely come just from the government.

To be clear, I don’t doubt my liberal friends' sincerity or good intentions. Most genuinely want to help the least fortunate. But sincerity without meaningful engagement, openness to different ideas, or understanding of economic realities risks creating misconceptions and alienation rather than genuine progress.

--

A few weeks ago, at an event on Memorial Day, they asked if anyone in the congregation had served in the military. Out of roughly 300 people present, just one stood up. This isn't unusual among the coastal elite. Almost nobody joins the military, becomes a police officer, or serves as a firefighter. In New York, the people holding these roles live primarily in the outer boroughs—Staten Island, the Bronx, Queens—areas that are increasingly voting Republican. My lefty friends repeatedly dismiss these voters as “uninformed.”

But what if this is completely backward? What makes my college-educated liberal friends more “informed” about working-class needs? Why do they presume to know what’s best for “poor people”? Contrary to stereotypes, conservatives consistently give more to charity, volunteer more frequently, and even donate more blood. The numbers are actually quite stark. Households headed by conservatives give 30 percent more to charity than households headed by liberals. If liberals and moderates gave blood as often as conservatives, the American blood supply would increase by 45 percent. (Source) So why do liberals still see themselves as the compassionate ones…?

--

Much has been written lately about how Democrats are losing the working class. The reasons seem clear enough to me. The American Dream—the notion that through hard work, honesty, and persistence, success is attainable—has become almost antithetical to today's Democratic messaging. From the left, we increasingly hear that the American Dream is dead, meritocracy is rigged, and government intervention is the best solution.

Imagine you’re a plumber who skipped college to complete a physically demanding apprenticeship, working 16-hour days to build a livelihood for your family. Then you hear your tax dollars might relieve the debt of someone who pursued a master's degree in feminist theory. How would that feel?

It feels clear to me why the working class is shifting rightward. The left’s intense focus on identity politics, DEI mandates, intersectionality, and ever-growing regulations, including wage controls on small businesses, fails to resonate with the hammer-wielding, hard-working backbone of America.

Democrats—whether they admit it or not—have become the party of elites: elite institutions, elite educations, elite jobs, elite identities. There's an absence of genuine service-oriented values and an overemphasis on identity-driven politics. Until Democrats address this disconnect, they'll likely continue losing ground. Political analysts largely agree (some articles with analysis can be found here, here, here, and here). They report that the Democrats' embrace of globalist, neoliberal policies alienated their historical working-class base. They prioritized educated professionals and affluent suburbanites over the manual workers they once championed. When my friend’s father said plumbing was beneath his “class,” he inadvertently reflected a broader Democratic failing. The resentment this creates isn't just economic -- it's cultural and personal.

I grew up proudly Democrat, assuming I’d remain one forever. But witnessing this disregard for honest, hard-working Americans shifted something deep within me. As I've spent more and more time with people on the right - I've encountered a thoroughly different outlook. I've observed a norm of deep respect for those who perform manual labor, a genuine appreciation of how each of us plays a vital role in keeping society functioning.

This outlook resonates. I frequently find myself feeling humbled as I walk through city streets, noticing all the hardworking people around me: lifting heavy bags of trash, sweeping sidewalks, preparing food in carts, braving heat, cold, and long hours on their feet. And what do I do? I sit comfortably at my desk in an air-conditioned room, attending meetings over Zoom. The contrast feels stark.

Recently, I’ve been having flashbacks to a conversation I had a few years ago during a ride-along with a plumber. Between appointments, I took him out for lunch. As we sat over our burritos, I asked him, “When people ask you what you do for a living, what do you say?”

Without hesitation, he replied, “I help people.”

“Everyone needs plumbing,” he continued. “Everyone needs a toilet. So I tell them I help people.”

I help people. Those simple, humble words resonated with me. What a powerful way to see one’s role in society -- grounded not in status or class, but in genuine service to others.

How wonderful would it be if we could all view plumbers that way.

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