Have you ever lost something important and, in a state of panic, search everywhere, retrace your steps, and, after looking and looking in every logical and illogical place, struggle to resign yourself to the reality that the item has simply vanished?

Last week, as my wife Arleeta and I were preparing to leave for Israel for our granddaughter Rivka’s wedding, we were dealing with all of the last-minute preparations – especially all of the items for the kids and grandkids and figuring out the suitcase-packing jigsaw puzzle while checking the exact weight of each luggage piece – when Arleeta said, “I have to run out; what did you do with my car keys?”

I replied, “Nothing; you were the last one to use your car. Don’t worry, they’ll turn up. In the meantime, here’s the spare key.”

After returning from her errand, Arleeta said, “This is ridiculous. My keys must be somewhere around here.”

Over the past few years I have had the privilege of writing regularly for What Where When. I appreciate the fact that I have had a lot of latitude in expressing my opinions – which, sometimes, some readers find objectionable. In this month’s letters to the editor, Ken Saks wrote a very reasonable rebuttal to some things I said in last month’s article, contrasting the Reagan administration with the Obama/Biden years.

Ken’s letter [see Letters to the Editor] was carefully crafted and well written. Therefore, I felt that I needed to respond in a similar manner, appreciating the fact that he and I may not agree, but we can engage each other respectfully.

As chaos, confusion, and darkness descend upon the world, I occasionally reminisce about the America of my youth. Sometimes I find comfort in recalling the privilege of growing up in an optimistic time, post-World War II. Sadly, that America is gone – replaced by an Orwellian, dystopian mess.

When I was young, we went to school to learn to read, write, and become good citizens. Everyday we prayed to G-d, recited the Pledge of Allegiance to the flag with our hand over our heart, and sang the “Star Spangled Banner.” We loved our country, looked up to our heroes in sports, in the movies, and on TV. (In those days, movies and TV weren’t toxic because of strictly enforced “morality” standards.) We respected the police and were in awe of the FBI. In those days, “heroes” meant good guys who did good things, fought for worthy causes, and were role models for good citizenship.

By now everyone is aware of the sudden passing of Senator Joseph Lieberman, of blessed memory. For me, and so many others, it was a shock. He was sharp, fit, and active until his untimely death. Just two weeks ago, an article he wrote appeared in the Wall Street Journal chastising Charles Schumer, saying “He has lost his way.” Joe Lieberman was interviewed by Fox News a day later. As always, he was clear and concise, while speaking respectfully about his shock and disappointment in the positions taken by Schumer and our current administration. It was less than a week later that Fox News covered his funeral.

Joe Lieberman was a larger-than-life figure, who accomplished great things, met with presidents and kings yet always remained the humble Yosef Yisroel ben Hanan. In his own words, “I’m just a simple Jew trying my best to honor G-d and my parents.” I was privileged to know Joe Lieberman, and of course, many thousands of people can say the same thing. I would like to share a few personal recollections which may help those who didn’t know him understand who he was.

As Purim quickly approaches, I find myself struggling with many conflicting emotions. Normally I would be concentrating on a Purim shpiel or at least a satirical commentary focusing on current events, but the ongoing war in Israel, coupled with threats to Jews everywhere and the pain and trauma of so many Israeli families weighs heavily on me. At the same time, I’m trying to emotionally reconcile advertisements for all kinds of expensive and over-the-top Purim delicacies and treats as well as exotic Pesach programs, offering every type of food, fun, and entertainment.

I am? fortunate to have met some truly righteous people over the course of my lifetime. Some are observant Jews, others are not, and some aren’t Jewish. Many are hidden tzadikim. These are individuals who are good and do good. The Talmud relates (Avoda Zara 24a) the story of Dama Ben Nesina, a non-Jew from Ashkelon who respected and honored his father and was meticulously honest. The purpose of Rebbe Eliezer relating Dama’s story in the Talmud was to teach a profound lesson about righteousness and respect.