Here's something you might be interested in.
If you want to know why I so generously provide Fred Saxon with a plug whenever he performs, look no further than this photo he forwarded:
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/jul/19/49523/
The location of the incident remains a mystery and I'm guessing that "A. Concerned Yid" is not the author of the letter's real name. One thing is certain: the eyes of God -- or at least some yenta caliventa with a God-complex -- are watching!
For those unfamiliar with arcane Jewish holidays -- cough, goyim, cough -- Tisha B'Av is the biggest bring-down of them all, a day set aside each year for Landsmen (and Landswomen) to suffer in silence. According to Hebrew Scholar Wik I. Pediawitz, Tisha B'Av "commemorates the destruction of the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem and the subsequent exile of the Jews from the Land of Israel. The day also commemorates other tragedies which occurred on the same day, including the Roman massacre of over 100,000 Jews at Betar in 132 CE. Instituted by the rabbis of 2nd-century Palestine, Tisha B'Av is regarded as the saddest day in the Jewish calendar and a day which is destined for tragedy."
All forms of pleasurable activity are streng verboten. No eating (it's a fast day) and don't even think of making a pilgrimage to the local Red Box to pick out a schtick dreck DVD to help inject a little joy into an otherwise dismal day.
Imagine A. Concerned Yid, a short, bearded frum clad in a frock coat and fur-trimmed bowler peering through field glasses, as he silently waits in the tulies. From the safety of Yid's Cadillac parked across the street in the Western Bagel lot, he spies Hosky Lipschitz, an unsuspecting member of his congregation who feels no need to look both ways before renting Parental Guidance.
Stopping momentarily to untangle his tsi-tsis from the emergency break, Yid flees the Caddy, bolts across the street, and with his wagging finger brushing against Hosky's nose says, "I'm telling God on you!" And what must His Holiness, blessed be He, think of a two-faced weasel in orthodox clothing eager to throw a fellow Jew under a Manischewitz truck for renting a video?
Do you have any idea what an incident like this can do to ruin one's standing in the community? Thank the Almighty that Red Box doesn't stock porn.
If you want to know why I so generously provide Fred Saxon with a plug whenever he performs, look no further than this photo he forwarded:
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/jul/19/49523/
The location of the incident remains a mystery and I'm guessing that "A. Concerned Yid" is not the author of the letter's real name. One thing is certain: the eyes of God -- or at least some yenta caliventa with a God-complex -- are watching!
For those unfamiliar with arcane Jewish holidays -- cough, goyim, cough -- Tisha B'Av is the biggest bring-down of them all, a day set aside each year for Landsmen (and Landswomen) to suffer in silence. According to Hebrew Scholar Wik I. Pediawitz, Tisha B'Av "commemorates the destruction of the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem and the subsequent exile of the Jews from the Land of Israel. The day also commemorates other tragedies which occurred on the same day, including the Roman massacre of over 100,000 Jews at Betar in 132 CE. Instituted by the rabbis of 2nd-century Palestine, Tisha B'Av is regarded as the saddest day in the Jewish calendar and a day which is destined for tragedy."
All forms of pleasurable activity are streng verboten. No eating (it's a fast day) and don't even think of making a pilgrimage to the local Red Box to pick out a schtick dreck DVD to help inject a little joy into an otherwise dismal day.
Imagine A. Concerned Yid, a short, bearded frum clad in a frock coat and fur-trimmed bowler peering through field glasses, as he silently waits in the tulies. From the safety of Yid's Cadillac parked across the street in the Western Bagel lot, he spies Hosky Lipschitz, an unsuspecting member of his congregation who feels no need to look both ways before renting Parental Guidance.
Stopping momentarily to untangle his tsi-tsis from the emergency break, Yid flees the Caddy, bolts across the street, and with his wagging finger brushing against Hosky's nose says, "I'm telling God on you!" And what must His Holiness, blessed be He, think of a two-faced weasel in orthodox clothing eager to throw a fellow Jew under a Manischewitz truck for renting a video?
Do you have any idea what an incident like this can do to ruin one's standing in the community? Thank the Almighty that Red Box doesn't stock porn.