The more I write the less successful I know I’ll be in getting my point across. But try I must. Yes, this is a rant against making Pom Pesachs. No, I have nothing against Pomegranate per se. Yes, if you go to a hotel for Pesach you aren’t even on the map as far as [...]
His eyes focus unsteadily, slowly, on me. Brighten. He greets me with a slurred, slow “A Guten“. He’s a nice guy, this yungerman. A little on the slow side, but nice. Typical yeshivish kuk for a forty year old; his black eyebrows are a bit whitened from the flecks of dandruff that spot it, and [...]
Apparently. “There’s a hafganah tonight!” One of my diramates is gushing (do bochurim gush? Or only women?) on and on about the huge, massive demonstration taking place near Kikar Paris to protest the building freeze set into place by the formerly hawkish government. “So, nu, Yeshiva Guy, are you going? I hear there is some [...]
Thursday night. The mere mention of this date/time combo can and does have Bochurim everywhere drooling. The Yeshiva Bochur’s single and only true vacation during the zman. Fridays don’t count because, well, the oilam is poofing from the Thursday night extravaganzas. And even upon the eventual wakeup from that fitful slumber induced by pounds of [...]
Old men are different. People expect old men to die. They look at them with eyes, wondering when. People watch them with unshocked eyes… But the old men know when an old man dies. – Ogden Nash I’m scared of being old. Not just being old, but being old and… unimportant. When you’re young, it’s [...]